His Path towards Freedom
by MBlackBird
Summary: The cruel Head of the Snatchers, Scabior - scarred by his past- once found a pink scarf while searching for wanted witches and wizards. The deep lavender smell on the scarf was something Scabior had smelled before. Smelling it again made him determined to find the girl the scarf belonged to. Who the owner was? The brightest witch of her time. It's time to: "Fuck selfcontrol"
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Scabior sat on his uncomfortable, wooden bed, with his scrubby blanket wrapped around his almost bare shoulders. He closed his dried out eyes and leaned against the cold, brick wall while thinking of a female's body, about a good glass of whiskey and about how perfect some bloody eyeliner would be...

But that time those happy thoughts weren't turned into insufferable pain.

Scabior opened his eyes again and looked around. Something is wrong.

He dropped his blanket and walked to his iron cell door containing only a tiny peeking hole, blocked by bars. He looked through it, but didn't see the usual amount of dementors. How bloody strange, he thought.

Scabior walked back into the centre of his cell, only containing the petty amount square feet and leaned against the iron sink, looking into a mirror that disfigured his face. He had no idea what he looked like anymore. He let the chilly water flow out of its tap, onto his hands, which made their way towards his face.

Suddenly he heard a loud bang and saw the back wall of his cell collapse in front of him. Scabior held onto his sink for another minute or two and then gathered the courage to let his clamped hands unclench. He moved his attenuated body step by step towards the hole in the wall.

He breathed in the cold air coming through. His nostrils widened, so did his eyes as the wind brushed against the skin of his cheeks and chest, coming through the shreds of his shirt, the damage done out of utter frustration and boredom. His hand brushed against the ripped bricks, clenching it tight, so he wouldn't fall into the mess of bricks and drown in the sea surrounding the prison.

Dozens of little rowing boats were stranded on the ruins of Azkaban. This was it, the big escape planned by Voldemort.

Scabior looked upon the dark, clouded sky that he hadn't seen for ages.

"Too bad there aren't any stars," he said, finally being able to grin without having the happiness being sucked out by those terrible creatures, as he started his climb down the bricks coming from the walls of Azkaban.

The bricks cut the bare soles of his filthy feet as his hands made sure he didn't tumble down from the massive pile of stone. Alongside him he heard his fellow convicts cry out, and join him in the climb down.

And even though he was scratched, weakened and thinned, this climb was one of the best moments of his life. Because, my dear readers, this climb was his path towards freedom.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Fenrir," Scabior called out to his fellow snatcher, "Look what I found!"

The werewolf walked towards him and smelled the dark haired, young woman. Greyback looked at the girl with his hungry werewolf eyes and brushed the side of the woman's face with the long nail of his right index finger.

"Juicy," he said, licking his lips through his dangerous werewolf fangs.

"What's your name luv'?" Scabior asked as he took out the list of refugees and his pencil from his coat pocket and put the pencil between his teeth so he could easily fold his parchments out.

"Lina Jameson," the girl said with a shivering voice.

The werewolf was still brushing her face, breathing against her neck.

"Yep there she is," Scabior grunted, using the tree opposite from him as a table, in order to cross of her name on his list, "24, mudblood." Scabior frowned and tried to figure out how old he was himself, 24 as well.

"Hey!" Scabior exclaimed, happy with himself for remembering, "You were in me year! Ravenclaw girl... Well she isn't worth much, the Ministry won't mind. Have ya go a' 'er Fenrir."

"Oh I will," he scowled, "ye like it rough sweetheart?"

The girl called Lina started to cry and looked at Scabior screaming for mercy, not only did her voice, but also did her eyes.

"Fenrir," Scabior said demandingly; the werewolf turned around with a grin on his face making shivers go down Scabior's spine, still holding onto his new toy, "go easy on 'er, yeah? No bi'ing and scratching, all tha' weird stuff you're into."

Greyback snarled at him as a confirmation of Scabior's orders and took the crying girl towards a quiet place in order to do his business in peace. As far as it was possible with a girl so desperate to leave.

"Greyback!" Scabior yelled after the werewolf, " I need more than a bloody snarl as a confirmation of this order!?"

Greyback turned around, spit on the ground and pushed the girl onto a tree.

"Fine," Greyback said as he took hold of the crying girl again and slammed her over his shoulder, " you have my word as much as it is worth, you fucking whiner."

"Thank you," Scabior yelled after him in attempt to make his fellow snatcher less frustrated, "have fun!"

Scabior closed his eyes and sat down against a massive oak tree, letting out a deep breath. Even though he had his share of mudblood and refugee girl beneath him, he didn't much like the thought of giving those girls to that brute werewolf, but he had to. He had to please his crew, this way he could keep order.

"Ya comin' boss?" his fellow snatcher asked.

He opened his blue, almost grey eyes and pointed them at the man who asked the question. Scabior stood up, put the parchment with the refugees' names back in his coat pocket with his pencil behind his ear. Putting it stuck into his tangled hair.

"Yeah," he grunted, smearing the dirt on his hands onto his dark, checked skinny jeans, "let's get back ta camp. Ya take the prisoners. 'is business could take quite a while, I reckon... 'E'll find 'is way."

Scabior asked the remaining two prisoners what their names where and crossed them of their lists as well. The men took the young man with brown eyes and black hair and the little kid of about twelve year old with a similar look with them as Scabior kicked some rocks on the way behind the group. He kept mumbling the lines of his favourite books to keep him sane in this strange world.

* * *

"Harry have you seen my wand?" Hermione asked as she searched her way through their enormous tent, turning over their belongings.

"No, why?" Harry asked, yelling from his and Ron's bedroom.

"Because I lost it, obviously," Hermione sighed and walked outside, smelling the night air, guarded by their spells.

"Here it is," Ron said, while handing Hermione her wand.

"Where was it?" Hermione asked, putting her wand stuck in her belt.

"Right on the kitchen table," Ron said, shrugging and walking away.

"Thank you!" Hermione called after him.

It was her turn to do the night patrolling, at least until 3 am. She sat down at a small camping chair and leaned backwards. She always used to read with the little light coming out of her wand to kill the boredom of hours without sleep. After hers, it would be Harry's swift. At least then she would get the chance to pick herself up before breaking down.

She took out her wand and picked up the book laying beside her, it was one of her mother's.

"Lumos," she mumbled, as a small light appeared from the top of her wand, enabling her to read the words printed on the pages.

Every once in a while she looked up from her book to investigate the area, but now, after four hours of reading, she really should take a stroll. She stretched her clenched legs and stood up. She still had her wand in her hand which she put the light out with, mumbling just one simple word.

"Nox."

She walked until she reached the end of their enchantments, but froze out of terror when she heard someone approach. The man walking last, kicking the rocks in his way had long brown hair, put up back like a ponytail. His body was clothed with several layers, which she couldn't all see in this particular light, but she did see his long, leather coat and his boots, which were bound around his ankles tightly. The other men, carrying two paralyzed bodies, stopped as their leader stopped as well. Just in front of Hermione, but behind the wall of enchantments.

"What's tha'," the long haired, mysterious man asked to his fellow snatchers, sniffing in the air. The man turned his head right to where Hermione stood, so she could see all the features of his face.

His skin was light and filthy because of the hours strolling in the woods, searching for prays.

His eyes were dark and darkened by black eyeliner smudged around them.

His jaw line strong, fierce, manly as his cheekbones were high, giving him a sweeter touch.

Hermione's breathing went faster, she knew what the man was. He was a snatcher and he was well known, he was feared. She could see why men feared him, but she could also see what was desirable about him.

"What's tha' smell?" Scabior said, asking his full question now entirely. He still sometimes took a sniff as his men looked at him wondering what had gotten into him.

Hermione now realised that that morning she puffed on quite an amount of the lavender perfume her mother had given her for her sixteenth birthday, her eyes widened, her fingers clenched into either a fist or around her wand, her breathing went even faster than before and her heart was beating against her chest, but she didn't move an inch.

* * *

The snatcher finally pointed his attention away from the overpowering, lovely lavender smell, to his colleague who had dropped the paralyzed body of the man they had snatched onto the forest floor.

"What cha doin'?" the prisoner carrying man grunted towards Scabior, as he tried to massage his sore shoulder.

The snatcher rolled his eyes and took a few steps towards his crew. His foot trying to find a rock to kick.

"He's heavy," another said grunting as he took a long swig of his water, or wine, Scabior didn't even care about those things anymore. As long as his men where kind of focused and in shape to take a long run.

Scabior smacked his lips and formed a sarcastic smile to partner with his sarcastic comment: "Oh sorry, do ya want me ta carry 'im?"

The other took the comment seriously and grunted a "Yeah" to the despise of his leader. The leader took a swig of what appeared to be wine after all and walked behind his group again. Readying himself for another hour of walking through the woods, to leave the lovely lavender smell behind.

* * *

Hermione rushed back towards the tent together with Harry who had walked up to her standing near the edge of enchantments to wake Ron. They had to leave as soon as possible. Falling into the hands of those snatchers would be the last thing they'd want. Due to Ron's shoulder injury appartion was out of question, to Hermione and Harry's frustration. They had to leave, she knew it. She felt something was wrong.

The necklace, containing a piece of Lord Voldemort's soul eventually split the group into two. Ron left Harry and Hermione on their own, while Hermione left her scarf on the tree near the camp where the group was at last with the three of them.

* * *

The group of snatcher had found themselves a new route to search for muggleborns and refugees, but they still hadn't found a thing.

They had run out of water, run out of wine. Had aching backs, had aching feet. The hours ticked by as not a single sound left the woods except for their own feet crunching the little twigs that lay scattered around the woods. _God this job can be boring_ , Scabior thought as they kept walking.

Finally they found themselves at the edge of the woods. Finally he could see the sky again. He hated not being able to see the sky lfor onger than a few hours. It made him feel claustrophobic. Almost as if he was back in his little cell at Azkaban again.

"Scabior," Greyback grunted, "let's get back to camp through the flatlands. Nothin' in here."

Scabior smooched his lips, but eventually gave the werewolf a nod and almost turned around, but something stopped him. The three snatchers turned their heads towards their leader, but he waved them away. "You go already," he said, "I'll be right behind you."

The snatchers didn't even care, they just assumed he had to take a piss, but he didn't. He walked back towards the edge of the woods where he found himself scanning the trees. He knew something was there, something was wrong, different. It was the _smell_ , he didn't only smell the grass and the trees and the cows, there was more.

He finally found what he was looking for, a pink scarf drenched in the lavender smell he found himself smelling quite some time ago. He grinned and breathed in through the scarf, overwhelming himself with the warm feeling he got from it.

He loosened the scarf from the tree and tied it around his own neck, so he could smell that lavender perfume anytime he wanted and anytime he needed. He knew right then and there, that from that day they'd come back to the edge of these magnificent woods every day, in order to find the girl the scarf belonged to.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Oi, boss, tell me why we're 'ere again?" one of the snatchers asked him as they went for the second lap across the same 600 square yards area.

"The scarf," Scabior grunted, as he lifted himself up the small hill, getting filth on his hands.

"Why does the bloody scarf matter again?" the same snatcher asked, receiving an offensive look from Scabior, "Jeez! No offence meant, boss."

"Bloody hell," the head of Snatchers grunted, "Is your memory really that short term?"

After walking the same lap twice again both Scabior as Greyback heard something. They sneaked back to the spot Scabior found the scarf and found themselves behind three travellers. The redheaded boy walked away from the other two a bit and suddenly had Greyback and the other two facing him, while Scabior stood behind the girl.

The girl bumped into the broad chest of Scabior and was again so close that Scabior could sense the lavender perfume again. He grinned broadly, took hold of his pink, lavender smelling scarf and looked at the astonishing girl in front of him. Her dark blonde hair waved over her shoulders as her dark chocolaty eyes burned holes in Scabior's heart. Scabior was hypnotized by her appearance, her beautiful dark eyebrows, dancing perfectly above those eyes. Her lips parted from one another out of fear or surprise, he couldn't tell. Her soft, fair skin and that adorable nose with the tip slightly lifted up, creating a cute, girlish look.

"Hello beau'iful," he said seductively, still staring at the girl.

Both boys and the girl ran away from the snatchers, trying to escape their fate. Scabior, still grinning broadly called out for his fellow snatchers: "Well don't hang about!" he exclaimed, "Snatch 'em!"

"Go Harry! Go without me! Now!" She yelled at the two boys running opposite direction of her.

All of the snatchers started moving, yelling out enchantments and hexes to catch one of the refugees. Scabior, Greyback and Scabior's usual crew went after the girl, the others after the two boys.

He ran the hardest he could, jumping over broken branches, big lumps of dirt and puddles of water, catching up with the breathtaking girl. He breathed in through his nose, running again, for a change, like snatching was supposed to.

After quite some time the girl started to slow down a bit enabling the snatcher to catch up with her. Hermione's lungs were burning and soon she started caughing, so she decided she couldn't run away from the snatcher much longer and stopped. She caught onto a tree, panting like she could die any moment.

Scabior stopped also, noticing he was surrounded by his fellow snatchers a little time later.

"Have any luck?" He asked to his nearing colleagues.

"Nah," one grunted, " disapperated right before our eyes. We tried to paralyze them... but yeah..."

The werewolf neared the panting girl and pointed at her with greedy eyes.

"She looks delicious," he said with a huge, creepy grin, "can I have my go at her?"

Scabior put his hand around the arm of the girl and used his other hand to take out the name papers again. "No, you can't," he grunted, "What's your name, luv'?"

The girl stuttered a few times, trying to regain her breath, but then grew back her courage and lungs and said with a clear voice:

"Penelope Clearwater."

Scabior's eyes went over the names starting with the C and let his suspicion grow.

"She isn't on the list," Scabior said while scanning the C over and over again, "You still in Hogwarts luv'?"

"We ran away," she said with her arms crossed across her chest.

"What house were ya in?" Scabior asked, still holding his papers.

"Slytherin," Hermione said with the most faked arrogance and pride.

Scabior scoffed and took a step closer to the girl. He put his papers back in the pocket of his coat and cupped her face with one of his hands, breathing in near the perfect face of the lying girl.

"There is no Penelope Clearwater in bloody Slytherin. So tell me the truth," Scabior whispered, "or there'll be nasty consequences."

Hermione took a step back, bumping into the tree behind her.

"Hermione Granger," she said as she put her hands on the shoulders of Scabior, pulled him down and knocked her knee against the manhood of Scabior.

Scabior fell onto his knees, grunting out of pain, but withhold his fellow snatcher to catch the running girl. "Let me," Scabior said while he stood up again, regaining himself, "I think I'll quite like this chase."

Scabior once again ran after the girl, who was only about one minute ahead of him. He sprinted harder than he ever had before, he would not let this price slip through his fingers.

He was only a few yards away from the panting girl when he yelled at her: "Ye can't run away from me luv'," laughing, "when something catches my eyes, they won't let go."

At the last word Scabior jumped on top of the Granger girl and turned her around, her brown eyes were filled with fear as her lip was trembling. Scabior sat on the girl's upper body and held her hands tight above her head. He leaned in closely and breathed against her neck, warming up his insides.

"So hot," he whispered in her ear, "for a mudblood."

Scabior felt the girl struggle beneath his as he tightened his grip. "You're going to be my favourite."

He put the girl on her feet again and held her hands tight behind her body, as she walked in front of the snatcher. The snatcher didn't lose sight of her for one second, she tried to step on his foot multiple times, which ended up in him whispering "Don't you even dare," in her ear.

He reckoned she disliked that, after she gave up on trying to escape.

"Hermione Granger," Scabior said, not whispering in her ear this time, "what a catch. The little girlfriend of Potter."

"I'm not his girlfriend," Hermione protested.

"My bad," Scabior apologised, "you're redhead's lover."

"Neither," Hermione mumbled.

"Oh!" Scabior said understanding, "Redhead isn't your boyfriend, but you want 'im ta be. Got it."

"I'm an independent woman."

"Of course you are," he responded with a hint of sarcasm.

As the two reached the camp, they found the snatchers regaining their breath against a few trees.

"Great," Scabior sighed, "my team exists out of lazy shit faces and werewolves."

The three snatchers opened their eyes and saw Scabior holding Hermione eagerly. Scabior threw Hermione on the ground, finally being able to loosen his tight grip and tied Hermione's hands behind her back. Hermione lay with her face flat against the cold, moist ground, searching for the snatcher who could prevent the werewolf from taking her.

"The three of you will go back to the place we found Potter and co and stay with their stuff they obviously want back," he ordered, "and I will go back ta camp with Miss Lovely 'ere. Copy tha'?"

The three snatchers stood up, shrugged and walked back to the place they found Harry and Ron. Hermione tried to communicate with Harry either Ron in her head, but knew it was useless.

She felt that the snatcher named Scabior tugged the rope around her hands as a sign that he wanted to start moving again, so she stood up and started walking again. Feeling the snatcher hold the rope tying her hands together.

"Finally I've got some company with brains," Scabior grunted, "You don't want to know wha' those savages talk about together... Horrible... And you also have a nice face ta look at so that's a plus point, I reckon."

They walked in silence for a few seconds, but Scabior decided it had to be broken and started talking again as the followed the path, probably leading towards the camp Scabior stayed at.

"Like seriously," Scabior continued, " I give 'em an order and they don't say a word! No "Yes sir!" or "Yes, Scabior, Sir!"... Most o' the time not even a grunt... Bloody didn't sign up for tha'. Gave up on 'em after about three months."

"Your situation must be terrible," sneered Hermione.

"Thank you for understanding, Granger," Scabior said with a hint of arrogance.

"You understand it was sarcasm, right?" Hermione asked, trying to figure out if the man was stupid or was only pretending to be.

"And I choose to ignore tha'," Scabior said, answering Hermione's question about his stupidity.

Hermione looked around the area and took in every little detail, she remembered some of it, from when they had camped in the woods, but most of it was new. The little farms with the immense farmlands laying aside them. It all looked like a picture from a child book, except for the part she was being held prisoner by an asshole snatcher.

"What ya thinking 'bout luv'?" Scabior asked her while sliding down her hand palm with his finger, giving her goose bumps.

"About you," Hermione said, wondering what the snatchers reaction might be.

Scabior whistled at Hermione's comment as he kept sliding down her palm, Hermione hated it. The way he made her feel, but she couldn't do anything about it.

"And what were you thinking about me precisely?" Scabior said with a low rasp in his voice, again sending shivers down her spine.

"About your body," Hermione said, he heard Scabior breath louder behind her, "and how I would like to kick the crap out of it."

"I guess I should've just taken the first answer," Scabior grunted.

"I guess you should've," Hermione agreed, finally the sliding down her hand palm stopped, so did the breathing against her neck. He felt the warmth of Scabior reduce as he took a step back, but he didn't lose grip of the rope around her hands and still left about a finger on her hand, to Hermione's frustration, in case she would disapparate.

Again there was a long silence as they continued following the slender, stony path, not seeing an end to it. This time Scabior wasn't the one to interrupt the peaceful silence, but Hermione was.

"Are we almost there yet?" Hermione asked, with a loud voice.

"Not quite yet, luv'," he answered, "about thirty more minutes I reckon. You want me ta carry ye?"

"I'd rather not," Hermione responded fiercely.

"As you wish, princess," Scabior said, chuckling.

"Don't call me that," Hermione snarled at him.

"What do you want me to call you then, luv'?" Scabior asked, accepting her request to ban princess out of his nickname dictionary.

"Nothing."

"That's bloody boring," Scabior sighed, "I'll keep it at luv'."

Hermione decided not to dive into an argument she couldn't win and ignored him completely. She took the peace offer of no more princess, no breathing down her neck and no hand palm brushing and walked the rest of their thirty minutes in a beautiful silence.

It wasn't even uncomfortable, even though the situation requested that. After a while she almost forgot the man walking behind her, always lurking over her shoulder, making sure she wouldn't try to escape.

Finally they reached the camp, the hike didn't turn out to be another thirty minutes, but another seventy. She obviously noticed that the time wasn't right, but again choose to ignore that.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The camp could be described as a big field, covered with huge tents. Not only sleeping tents, Hermione reckoned, but also conference rooms, cafeterias, bars, cells. All around the field, men and women were walking, mostly men. Some were already drunk, even though it wasn't even dark yet. Sometimes you could hear the screams of women being raped, prisoners being tortured for information, men singing and just one other sound. Scabior's voice.

"Don't be scared lil' bird," Scabior whispered in her ear, "Tha' won't happen to you, I'll make sure of tha'."

Even though she didn't like the snatcher breathing down her neck, she was relieved of what he just said. She wouldn't be harmed, or at least not by anyone except Scabior...

The duo kept walking for another five minutes, passing by tents smelling of delicious gravy and Butterbeer. Hermione tried to ignore the gnawing growing inside her stomach, how she would love a plate full of good food and a big can of Butterbeer by the side.

They reached the edge of the field, almost touching the forest again and entered a big tent with a little signboard pinned in the ground, next to the entrance saying: _Scabior; head of snatchers_.

Against everything Hermione thought of the man, she didn't know he had that kind of a ranking.

The inside of the tent was not how it looked from the outside, it wasn't a magical tent, Hermione wondered why. The tent was actually still quite small. A big two persons bed was standing in the centre of the "room" against the canvas of the back. A desk with papers and books scattered across it stood on the right of it, next to that a closet filled with books and various other items. A big bag full of clothes and again books lay on the left of it and a big lamp hang from the ceiling. In the centre of the room stood a big table with six chairs and a lamp on top of it, enabling the tent to function as a conference room.

Scabior untied Hermione and threw the rope on his table. Hermione fumbled with her wrists, thinking of a way to reduce the soreness without a wand.

"This is where you'll be staying for the next bit of time," Scabior said, "make yourself at home."

"Then where will you be staying?" Hermione asked, hoping not to get the answer she expected.

"'ere 'f course," Scabior answered, "It's my tent. You'll be my personal prisoner for the time being, nobody will be able to harm you in any way as long as I say so and ya won't be going anywhere, as long as I say so. I will inform the fellow authorities about you staying under my watch and I'll explain to 'em how you're of value. Got it?"

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione asked, not understanding how this all just happened, "Why do you want me as your personal prisoner instead of just throwing me in a cell like you do with the others?"

"You interest me," Scabior said, while leaning against the table, "from the moment I smelled your perfume you interested me."

"For all you knew I could've been an old lady with dozens of cats who knitted all day," Hermione sneered while going through the books that lay upon Scabior's desk.

"For all I knew you could've indeed been an old lady who knitted all day," Scabior said, "but yet you weren't, like I thought you would."

There was the comfortable silence again, Scabior watched as Hermione went through all the books, sorting them by series, author names, sometimes even colour.

"You like books?" Scabior asked, already aware of the answer.

"Yes," she said shortly, while going through the first book of a four book series.

"I heard Hermione Granger was the brains behind Harry Potter," Scabior chuckled, "Tha' you were the smartest witch of your time."

"I am," Hermione again answered shortly, this time walking towards Scabior's bed and sat upon the end.

"There are more books in my bag," Scabior told her while standing up from the chair he sat in, " I have to go tell the authorities about you and get you some food. Don't try to escape, it'd be a waste of our time."

Hermione didn't say another word, she was already absorbed in the story she was reading. She first had done the book sorting and reading thing to irritate Scabior and show her lack of interest in him, but she found herself greedy for the words written in the book. God did she love it, the book immediately starting with mystery. Later on it became even more interesting, it even had a bid of violence, but not so much to bother it, an amazing reading style and even a romance.

The amazing books that were planted on Scabior's desk surprised her. And there were even more in his bag!

She didn't take a long look at the papers that lay on his desk, but she saw that some of them were drawings. From what she had seen they were asstonishing.

How could such an arrogant, perverted snatcher be sophisticated in so many ways?

Among the books were also poetry, mostly Walt Whitman, some Shakespeare. He even had his collection of Jane Austin...

After being away for about an hour, Scabior returned with a platter, containing two sausages, mashed potatoes, gravy and some pees. Next to it a bottle of pumpkin juice and a big chunk of white bread.

"There was also this corn soup, but it smelled funny and looked like soled pee, so I just asked for two sausages," Scabior said while putting down the platter of food on his table, "I didn't know what you wanted to drink with it, but I figured you'd like pumpkin juice, 'cause who doesn't?"

Hermione didn't listen to what Scabior was saying, but put down her book immediately and sat down at the table. Eating as much as she could.

"Glad you like it," Scabior said as he sat down across from Hermione and picked up the map that lay on the table they were sitting on. He took out his pencil and his pair of compasses and started drawing figures on it with the help from a list of names and coordinates on it.

He was probably figuring out a course for the next couple of days for him and his team, Hermione thought, but she decided to ask it anyways.

"What are you doing?" She said right after she swallowed her spoonful of pees.

"This captain of this snatchers squad is a moron," Scabior grunted, "so I am asked to plan 'is courses."

"Don't you have to do your own?" Hermione asked as she prepared a bite of sausage with mash.

"I do," the snatcher answered, "but I figured I'd let my team on patrol at the place we found you, in case your lil' friends return."

"Won't they get tired?" Hermione asked, now putting down her cutlery.

"They will," Scabior answered, now looking up from his work, "they'll have switches and all."

"Don't you have to take a switch then?"

"I should, shouldn't I?" Scabior sighed, "Nah, fuck it. I'll stay 'ere with you, 'll check up with 'em tomorrow morning."

Hermione returned to her platter of food that had decreased drastically. Then she realised, didn't Scabior still need to eat?

She looked up again and saw him nibbling on his pencil, thinking about the course of his fellow snatcher.

"Don't you have to eat?" Hermione asked.

"Had a cup of soup this afternoon," he responded, not fully focussed on the question.

"Aren't you hungry then?"

"Maybe I'll grab a sandwich later or somethin'," he again answered with full focus on his map.

"You want my leftovers?" Hermione asked, trying to be polite.

"Ye done then?" Scabior asked.

"I guess," she answered.

"You eat it, you're skinny anyways," he said, gnawing on his pencil.

Hermione decided not to take it as an offence and ate the last bits of food left on the plate. She purposely left the bread on and a bit of the pumpkin juice to see if he really wasn't hungry.

"I'm done," Hermione said while she pushed her plate aside and picked up her book again, "there's some bread and pumpkin juice left, if you want."

Scabior looked up with greedy eyes and let them fall upon the plate, He picked up the piece of bread with his left hand and kept sketching with his right. He ate the whole thing in three bites and slung back the bit of pumpkin juice in one.

"Thanks," he murmured.


	5. Chapter 4

**Hey! I just wanted to say that in my story there aren't really pov's, maybe you've already noticed, maybe you haven't. I could've made it a bit unclear, but the story follows both Scabior as Hermione and shows what they're thinking and doing. So there isn't really a point of view.**

Chapter 4

After another two hours of planning out routes and peeking up to his new treasure reading, Scabior found himself too tired to concentrate. He stood up, fold up the maps and walked toward Hermione who was sitting against the back reading her book.

"I have to deliver my maps," he said, gesturing with the maps, "Also a good night's rest would go unappreciated. So if you don't mind luv' finish up your chapter, will ye?" Scabior's hand found its way to Hermione's face, but Hermione slammed it away before it could touch her.

"Fine," she said, "where can I brush my teeth?"

"Well there's a bathroom facility a minute from 'ere," Scabior sighed, looking at his hand offended, "ye can't go on ye own, so just wait here... You can use my things."

Hermione nodded, but didn't look up from her book for one second.

"See you soon, luv'," he said, not expecting any form of a respond, " Well I reckon it's a one way marriage," he mumbled to himself.

Hermione did as she was told and finished up her chapter, she was almost halfway through the book and a bit devastated that she couldn't continue on reading it until the next morning. But she just had to find a way to deal with it.

Unsure of how to mark where she was, she just left the book open under their bed and stood up. She walked towards the desk with the scattered papers and let her hand go over them.

Some of the papers were merely from his work as a snatcher: wanted posters, lists of names, values etc. Some of them were maps, with whole routes and dots for houses of those who ran. Some were photographs of runaways, muggleborns, traitors, but some were drawings and sketches.

She picked one up and let her hand follow the lines of the walls of a house. The house was surrounded by a forest, she didn't know which one. Next to the house lay a lake, Scabior had reflected a little boy in the water. A boy that was playing with the water. A big tree stood between the building and the waters, shadowing both, but above all there was a woman. The woman stood behind the window, her face was detailed until perfection. You could see the lines of the wrinkles in her tired face, where used to be a smooth skin even the reflection of the light in her eyes was to be seen and her hair had been put up in a ponytail.

The features of the female's face somewhat looked like the features Scabior had, maybe the woman in the drawing was his mother.

Another drawing was of an angel, her back was turned as she was walking through a field of flowers. The flowers were bedded on a hill, with one single, blooming tree on the top of it, It was the same tree as was in the picture of the house, but not the same location. The angel wore a white gown, draped over her right shoulder. Her wings were folded in, liked they were hugging. Around the hills were again woods, millions of trees were to be seen.

That was when Hermione realised that what the hill and the tree were supposed to symbloize. The hill was a pathway towards heaven and the tree was the tree of life./p  
"What the fuck are you doing?" She heard a man say from the entrance of his tent.

The man continued walking towards her, turned her around and grabbed her wrist, looking like a madman. His fingers dug into her arms, making her cringe.

"I asked you a question?" Scabior screamed out.

"I was just looking through your drawings," Hermione said, "I didn't know..."

"Ye didn't know what?" he sneered.

"That you would care that much," Hermione told him, "I was just curious, are you going to punish curiosity? If you didn't want me to see them, then why did you leave them open on your desk?"

Scabior looked at her with pain in his eyes, took the drawing from her and put it on the desk.

"Just... Don't touch 'em," he said with a crack in his voice, "you can't look at 'em or touch 'em, Got it?"

"They're good drawings, Scabior."

"I asked you if ye fucking got it. Not your opinion," Scabior said frustrated, "Now have you gotten it, Granger?"

"Yeah I got it."

"Good girl," he snickered sarcastically, "Don't make me yell at you again, Granger."

He grabbed a few things from his bag and walked outside the tent.

"Are you coming or wha'?" he said this time faking his arrogant self, to not seem vulnerable in front of Hermione.

Hermione took a deep breath and walked outside, the few lamps hanging outside the tents kept her from tumbling over every little thing coming in her way. She walked next to Scabior for indeed just a minute through the maze of drunk snatchers until they reached a big tent with two doors, a males and a females.

"You're female," Scabior said with a frown, "That's gonna be an issue."

"You prefer men?"

Scabior looked at her angrily and dragged her into the men's room. "You've got teeth. Brush 'em."

"Not in here!" Hermione screeched.

"We don't bite!"A man peeing in an urinal joked whith a nasty grin.

"Yeah because don't have any teeth to bite with," Hermione said softly with a sigh.

"Luv', stop that attitute and brush you bloody teeth," Scabior while leaning against a sink.

"I will, but not in here."

"Didn't you hear me?" Scabior said now looking dead serious, "Brush you goddamn teeth in 'ere or don't 'em a' all."

"But..."

"No fucking 'But''s, luv'," Scabior said with a raised voice again, "I'm not going to sit around 'ere waiting for princess Hermione Granger to brush her fucking teeth when I just told the princess I wanted to get some bloody sleep."

Hermione looked at her feet and fumbled with her shirt.

"Now brush your teeth."

Hermione took the toothbrush from Scabior, put some toothpaste on it and brushed her teeth that had felt so nasty for so long. Then she took Scabior's soap, washed her face and did an attempt at brushing her untameble hair.

"You're good girl, luv'," Scabior said with a smile as he brushed away some of the hair that was draped around her face, before Hermione decided to turn away, "Now was that so hard?"

Hermione kept quiet, with her arms covering her chest so the men in the bathroom would stop looking at it.

"Have you lost your voice, luv'?" Scabior said with a grin while tilting up her head so she would look directly at him.

"No."

"Good," Scabior smiled, "Do you need to shower?"

The men standing in the corner started to bawl, but Scabior quieted them down with a signal of his raised hand.

"No, I don't need to shower," Hermione said fiercely.

"When was the last time you showered?" Scabior said brushing her hair away again.

"Yesterday."

"I like to keep my bed clean, luv'," Scabior said while licking his bottom lip, "Do you consider yourself clean?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to use the loo then?" Scabior said a tad sarcastically.

"No."

"You sure, sweetheart?" Scabior asked before he stopped playing with her hair, "I don't like to get up in the middle of the night to bring you back 'ere."

"I'm sure, Scabior," Hermione said a little irritated.

"Very well," Scabior said before he let go of her, "Let's go."

"Don't you need to..."

"I don't," Scabior said with a grin, "I'll do it outside of my tent."

"So why did you bring me to the men's room then?" Hermione asked before Scabior started dragging her outside again.

The men started to whistle a few more times and called their goodbye's until Scabior and Hermione stood outside in the dark.

"Because I like to watch you."

"You embaressed..."

"Ta! Ta! Ta! Ta!" Scabior said with his hand raised, "I know it's a bit hard for you to process that you can't bicker with me, get your way of things and live the life of a princess..."  
"Stop calling me..."

"Puh! Puh! Puh! I wasn't done talking," Scabior said before taking Hermione's arm and dragging her back to the tent, "You are mine. And I get to do with you as I please. As long as you do as I say, you don't do stupid things and you don't argue with me, you're absolutely safe with me. Capichè?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled herself out of Scabior's iron grip.

"Fine by me."

Scabior opened the tent for himself and Hermione and took of his boots. He let out a grunt of relief and took of his belt as well.

"No worries luv'," Scabior grunted as he took off his coat as well, "I have teeth and I don't tend to bite either."

Hermione sat down at the edge of the bed and looked at Scabior without his iconic boots, coat and belt.

"Are you expecting a striptease or something?" Scabior said jokingly, "stop the staring, you're making me feel self-conscious."

"I don't have a sleeping gown," Hermione stated as she watched Scabior undo his second layer of clothing.

"You can borrow a shirt of mine," Scabior suggested as he sat down next to his bag, now only clothed with Hermione's scarf, his black t-shirt , his pants and socks. He searched for a clean shirt beneath the pile of his books and dirty clothes, when he found another black one he grinned and handed it over to her.

"There you go sweetheart," Scabior said, still smiling.

"Turn around," Hermione said.

"Pardon?"

"Turn around," Hermione said more fiercely this time.

"You're afraid I'm going to jack off or somethin'?" Scabior asked with a grin and big eyes, "You know what? I'll keep my hands raised."

Hermione looked down at her feet and started biting on the inside of her cheek, "I would appreciate it if you would turn around."

Scabior smooched his lips, but turned his back towards the girl. Hermione quickly took off her clothes, but she left her underwear on. After she was done she tabbed on Scabior's shoulder.

"Yeah?" He asked, still with his back towards her.

"I'm done," she answered as she turned her back towards Scabior.

"I was just joking back there, eh? I'd love your eyes on me and I'd love to do a lil' striptease for my lil' treasure," he chuckled while he took of the scarf, his shirt, his pants and his socks. Leaving him only in his black underwear. Scabior plucked his checked pyjama pants out of his bag and looked at the back of Hermione.

Scabior's t-shirt was way too big for her, it ended until an inch or two above her knees, falling perfectly over her body shapes.

Scabior walked towards her, tapped on her shoulder and whispered in her ear:

"I'm done, beau'iful." He saw that the hairs on Hermione's arms stood up as she turned her head slowly. She looked at the naked upper body of Scabior and swallowed.

Scabior took a step towards her and put his fierce hand on Hermione's cheek gently, but yet with strength, looked deeply into her chocolate brown eyes and leaned in, letting himself feel her warm breath tintling against his skin, but stopped himself right before his lips touched hers.

"Maybe another time," he said, Scabior bit his lip with a little grin and took a step backwards. He walked over towards his empty closet and leaned against it.

"I'm sorry," he said, "you're just a lil' hard to resist, Hermione."

Hermione didn't do a thing, she just stood there looking at the man with a muscular chest. She kept thinking about how strong it was. His arms, his chest, his stomach, his shoulders and she knew it was wrong. It was so wrong. His hipbones made a perfect v, his waist smaller than his chest, his shoulders broad and muscled, his back scarred. She looked at all the scars on Scabior's perfect body and wondered how they got there. Next to that he had a few little tattoos on his chest, some were ancient ruins, some were things entirely else. Those, for some weird reason, made her want to kiss him more than anything and she had almost let him. She almost let the enemy kiss her.

She wouldn't let that happen, she wouldn't let some snatcher snatch her first kiss as well.

Hermione walked towards Scabior's bed and turned on her side beneath the blankets.

"I don't have any clean clothes anymore," she whispered.

"Right..." Scabior said as she saw the lights go out, "I'll try and fetch ye some tomorrow."

"Okay."

"You could wash your clothes and some of mine while I'm out."

"Sure..."

Scabior smiled at the sight of Hermione in his bed and turned the remaining lights off. He walked towards his bed in the dark and lay himself on top of the blankets. He didn't want her to repulse him just yet.

"Well g'dnight then, luv'," Scabior whispered against her back.

But Hermione had already fallen asleep.


	6. Chapter 5

**Okay so, I'm in this super write setting right now and the words just flow out, it's amazing. It may happen that the writing will become not as good as. If this happens, please do tell. I always want you to get the best writing quality.**

 **If you liked it? Please let me now in the comments down below, if you didn't? Go ahead, opinions are valued!Please enjoy the next chapter, I hope you'll like it.**

 **Chapter 5**

Hermione woke up in the middle of the night and found herself needing to use the toilet very badly. She looked over at Scabior, who was laying on top of the blankets, leaving Hermione not being able to resist cracking a little smile. She sat up a little, kept looking at Scabior and thought through her options.

Hermione gently tapped on Scabior's bare shoulder, which resulted in nothing, but the state he was in before.. She then shook a little harder which got her a loud grunt and an awoken snatcher.

"Wha'?" he groaned through his pillow.

"I have to use loo."

"You have to wha'?" Scabior grunted with noticable irritation.

"I have to use the..."

"I heard ya fine, luv'," Scabior said with a sigh before he opened his eyes and sat up, "Don't ya remember me tellin' ya this evening about not wantin' ta go to the bathroom with ya in the middle of the fuckin' night?"

"I can go on my own."

"Answer the bloody question. Do you remember me tellin' ya?"

"Yes, I do," Hermione whispered.

"So, what will you do next time we go for a visit at the bathroom?"

"I'll use the loo as well."

"It's not so fuckin' hard," Scabior spat at her, before standing up and taking off his pyjama bottoms.

Hermione quickly looked away and stared at the canvas wall.

"Hermione, luv', if you don't like the idea of goin' to tha' bloody bathroom in just a shirt I'd suggest for you to cloth yourself."

Hermione stood up, put on her jeans, socks and shoes and leaned against the table as Scabior fastened his boots and put on his coat.

"I'm starting to think I made a mistake, sweetheart," Scabior sighed, "This will not happen again. I could throw you inta one o' those cages for all I care."

The scared girl looked at Scabior and noticed Scabior not wearing his vest nor shirt. He just wore his coat with a pair of black trousers, his boots and belt. In his gloved hand was his gorgeous, smooth wand that he used with speaking. She resisted his body and the attraction she felt towards him and remembered the mean matter of speaking he used and the crimes he had committed.

"I know. It won't happen again."

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes and looked into Scabior's. Finally she had the time and light to see what colour they were and immediately she regretted that she had.

His eyes were mesmerizing dark blue, almost grey. His lashes only at the start dark, along the way they became lighter. His eyebrows weren't threatening at all, but very loving. The lovingness of his eyes confused Hermione, as his attitude was rough and bitter.

Those lashes, those small speckles of green through the blue mess of his eyes, those lines carved by laughing.. or crying. All of those details, those gorgeous details, made Hermione want to scream on the top of her lungs to declare to the world how she was drowning and drowning in a feeling of love and lust.

But she didn't, she smiled a small smile, hoping that kindness would be greeted with kindness.

"Mornin' princess," the hope flew away, "ya sleep well the remainin' few hours of night?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, sitting up, "weren't you cold?"

Scabior laughed and stood up on his side of the bed, "I don't get cold."

The man with the incredible body walked around the bed, towards the other side where Hermione was sitting and sat down at the edge. He brushed away the hair in front of Hermione's eyes and put his hand down again.

"You look a bit sad, luv'. Anythin' I can do to make ya life tad be'er?" Scabior asked, looking into her eyes again. Hermione's dark eyebrows formed a frown as she was thinking. Her determined, focussed look send butterflies through his stomach. Those feelings couldn't've been real... it was probably just imagination, he thought.

"I have a _number_ of things," Hermione said.

Scabior raised his eyebrows before putting on his shirt.

"I'd like for you to bring me back to my friends or release me, stop calling me "luv'", stop touching me," Hermione said gently, "and I want my bag with my clothes."

"I'm not bringing you back to your friends nor am I not releasin' ya. Ya won't ever see me stop calling you luv' and well... my hands have a mind of their own," Scabior said with a nasty smile as he knotted Hermione's pink scarf around his neck, "Tha' bag, though, is somethin' I can do."

Scabior stood up from the side of her bed and walked toward his bag again, he took off his pyjama pants, turned to Hermione and walked towards her again. Even though he was already wearing his shirt, vest and scarf, his trousers were off, revealing the black boxers he wore underneath. Hermione already knew how beautiful his upper body was, but the inviting hump his manhood formed was something Hermione couldn't seem to keep her eye off.

At last she noticed him looking at her checking the newly revealed bodypart out and blushed Gryffindor red, while she felt herself throb down below.

"You be'er close your eyes now, luv'," Scabior told her seductively with a smirk on his face, "I don't want ya to suffer from a permanent blush."

Hermione swallowed away the saliva formed by her watering mouth and blushed at the responds of her body on his, before she closed her eyes and turned her face to the side.

"It's all clear for your virgin eyes again," Scabior yelled out, "wash our clothes while you're at i'."

"I already said I'd do it," Hermione said, slightly annoyed, "but I'd need water and soap, wouldn't I?"

"'Course ya would..." Scabior looked around his tent and scratched his head, "Lowest desk drawer, the others are off limits."

Scabior put on his boots, tightened them and stood up. "I'm out to get some breakfast. You want anythin'?"

"I'd like some tea," Hermione mumbled.

"Will do," Scabior said while he walked towards the girl he felt so extremely attracted to that was sitting on the bed, "There's a crane around the corner of the tent, you could use tha'."

"Actually why don't you do the washing?" Hermione asked, actually slightly offended.

"You're my prisoner," Scabior said, putting on his coat.

"Or because I'm a woman?" Hermione asked showing the offence.

"It's just convenient that you're a woman," Scabior answered, walking towards Hermione, while putting on his glove, "And it's not like I have all the time in the world, missy! "

"How will I get my lunch?" Hermione asked, realising how much she depended on what Scabior provided.

"Go without," Scabior said quickly putting a kiss on Hermione's forehead before she could stop him, "put on my pyjama pants before you're gettin' yourself a cold."

Hermione decided to do as he told, but to not give a counter reaction anyways.

"I love how ye look in my clothes by the way," Scabior grinned as walked out of the tent, "makes it easier to imagine ya without. See ye in a bit, luv'."

Scabior disappeared from the tent, leaving Hermione behind, once again. She stood up, ignored the way his nasty comments made her feel, grabbed the soap and little tub from the lowest drawer of his desk and walked outside. She could still see Scabior walking further and further away from her, his long coat dancing as he walked.

Hermione could see the camp starting to wake up all around her. She looked around her and her tent and took it all in. Scabior's tent was at the edge of the wood, far away from the real savages in the camp. The crane was nearby, so was the little path. Hermione squatted down by the crane and let the cold water fill the little tub. While the water was running she walked a little further away from the tent, but was swung back with a loud smack.

She landed on the muddy ground and crawled back up. Scabior had put up a force shield, preventing her from escaping. Hermione crawled back to the tub and started washing as she went through the numerous books she had read, trying to find a way around a Scabior's shielding spell, but she couldn't think of a single one. At least not without her wand and her wand was in captivity of Scabior.

The foam, coming from the scraped soap covered Hermione's hands and she smiled. Soap had always been a thing Hermione had loved. The cleanliness, the smell…

Was that what she'd be doing the rest of the war? Cleaning a Death eater's clothes?

* * *

"Daddy's back," Scabior exclaimed while walking past her with a platter filled with food, "I see you've already started washin'..."

"Oh.. Shut up," Hermione spat before she marched into the tent toward her breakfast. She sat down at the table and took a few bites of the eggs. Scabior was still half outside, with a raised eyebrow and confusion filling his brain.

Soon Scabior was sitting opposite from her, with an old newspaper on the table and his cup of coffee in his right hand. He looked up from the newspaper to look at his treasure and saw her cutting a piece of bacon like the well mannered girl she was. He smiled and kept watching her until she looked up from her focus on the food.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothin', " Scabior assured her, "just is tha' I find you much more interesting than a silly newspaper from days ago."

Hermione rolled her eyes and continued on her eggs, when she had swallowed the bite with a sip of tea she said: "Don't you need to eat?"

"I've gotten my coffee," Scabior answered, "plenty enough for me."

"It's not. Here, take the toast," she said while handing it to him. Scabior shook his head and guided her hand back to the plate.

"No, thanks, luv'," he said, "you eat it."

"You're going into the woods soon," Hermione stated with big eyes, "you're going to run and yell and do whatever you do. You need some sort of energy for that!"

"Caffeïne."

"Scabior…"

Scabior rolled his eyes, took the toast from the plate, took a big bite and put it right back on her plate, "See? Food in the tummy. I'm all good."

"Please?"

The man blinked a few times until he took a long breath and said: "I fast," he took a sip from his coffee before saying: "Keeps my head clear and makes me run faster. Sometimes I eat, but only when I know the next day won't include a lot of running or keeping a cool head."

"But… that's not healthy!" Hermione noticed, "Not healthy, at all!

"I'll eat some peanuts tonight, OK?" he teased her before resuming his newspaper.

Hermione decided to drop the subject and leave the snatcher be. He wanted to starve himself? Fine. At least that would mean she would be rid of him sooner.

She ate the rest of her breakfast in silence, leaving not a crumb on the plate, knowing she'd have to do with that platter of food until dinner. She didn't get to run, she didn't get to fast.

She stood up and got back to her washing. Moments later she noticed Scabior leave the tent, touch her shoulder and squat down beside her.

"I'm off to the woods," he said before gently sniffing her brown curls, "be a good girl and stay inside after you're done. You'll get your bag if you've been good."

Hermione clenched her jaw and continued washing, "I'll go inside after I'm done."

He let his finger slide down her jawline, making Hermione flinch. She wanted him to touch her, somewhere deep down. But right then and there, the perverse way he was looking at her terrified her.

That craving for his touch, though, she knew it wasn't right. He had broken something inside her, the wall build around her heart.

"Such a good girl…" he whispered, "Bye, bye for now, beau'iful."

The woman craving man walked away from the washing girl, through the force shield he had set up. He watched his fellow snatchers wake up from another night of heavy drinking and fucking. A few were already stumbling to the toilets to vomit, due to their stomach not being able to bear the load of alcohol mixed with the breakfast food from the snatcher's camp.

Scabior grinned, he used to do that all the time. Go to the tents they called pubs and have a few rounds of rum and/or whiskey. Once in awhile he only grabbed a beer, but due to his high ranking he couldn't afford to get drunk every night anymore.

Nor could he come home drunk to Hermione.

Not while she was still busy falling for him.

When finally Scabior arrived at the place his snatchers were guarding he found two of them sleeping against a tree and one with his legs crossed by a small fire.

"Where are her clothes?" he asked the snatcher sitting by the fire.

"Tha' blinded by luv', are ya boss?" the snatcher laughed.

Scabior took a long breath and looked around him. He saw the pieces of clothing scattered around the place. Her underwear in particular had gotten special treatment, the mostly lay around the snatchers or were used to dress up the spot.

He shook his head and walked to the still laughing snatcher, "Ya think tha's funny, do ya?" he spat at him.

"Why, yes boss! Ain't gonna tell me you don't think tha's funny!" the younger man told Scabior.

Scabior's face suddenly turned grim while he picked the snatcher up by his collar and dragged him toward a tree. He pinned his inferior up against it and came real close before saying, "Tha' ain't proper manners. You know wha'? You're gonna pick i' all up and fold it real nice. Yeah?"

"But, boss-"

"Uhpuh.. puh.. puh.. puh.." Scabior interrupted, "I think I haven't made myself clear. This was an order."

Scabior threw his inferior on the ground kicked him in the stomach once and dragged him back up, "Well, come on! Haven't gotten all day."

The snatcher started picking up the clothing laying scattered around the woods while Scabior relaxed and leaned back against the tree he had just pinned the younger snatcher against. When the snatcher had finally picked up all the clothing he began to fold.

Scabior had turned away for a moment or two, but turned back towards his snatcher, cracked his neck and squatted down next to him. The snatcher kept folding without looking up, but Scabior picked up a piece of folded clothing and examined it.

"Fold it like a girl," he said, "not like a grizzly bear."

His snatcher took a deep breath before taking a new piece of clothing and folding it real nice, but Scabior still wasn't satisfied, "Again!" he yelled, "Do everythin' you've folded again."

When the snatcher started folding his entire pile again Scabior rolled his eyes at his speed and kicked another snatcher away. Scabior dragged the man towards the clothing pile and threw him on the ground, "Fold," Scabior commanded, "nicely, like you're a lil' bitch."

Finally, after halve an hour of folding, the duo was done. They placed the clothes into the bag as they remembered and threw it at Scabior's feet. Scabior gave an intimidating stare, telling them that they should keep their temper and not say a thing. Scabior picked up the bag and kicked out the snatchers' little fire in his wake.

The bag, slung back across his back was at least retrieved. Maybe the gesture would encourage the girl into liking him a bit better.

Scabior felt the hunger roar inside his stomach. It was true that his head was clearer and his legs ran faster on an empty stomach, but it wasn't true he was fasting. Yes, if they were planning something big he'd eat way less than normal, but that wasn't the case. He could eat for all he cared and if he had food he'd eat like a madmen. But he had made a deal.

The girl would be a secret. A secret held under Scabior's roof and the secret would be held accountable to Scabior only. No extra food for the prisoner, no extra anything. If he wanted his own entertainment? He'd pay.

Scabior arrived at the camp and walked back to his tent. He saw a puddle of water and soap near the crane and saw a few items hanging outside. She'd done well.

He entered the tent and directly saw his prisoner read the cover of one of his books while leaning against the desk. Hermione looked up, saw the bag and said: "You know that detective series, right? Amazing. I've finished the second book and I -"

Scabior couldn't help it anymore, the girl was just…

He grinned, dropped the bag of Hermione's clothes he was holding and took three huge steps towards where she was standing. He put his hands on her waist, bumped her against the desk and said:

"Fuck self-control."

He pushed his lips against Hermione's and felt the sweet sensation overtake every other feeling his body held. This time Scabior felt no resistance. He only felt her soft lips bowing to their lust. He had never felt such hunger, such spark before when she kissed him with such passion that it almost became overwhelming.

Every time their lips lost touch for a second they craved for another kiss. Scabior became rougher and more confident, he didn't only kiss those perfect lips anymore, but he let them slide down towards her neck. He left her a trace of love marks and kisses, leaving Hermione moaning from pleasure and excitement, but the moment he neared her collarbone, she stopped him.

"I can't," she whispered struggling, "I can't. It's not right. I can't, Scabior. Stop!"

Hermione tried to get away from the man still kissing her neck and kept struggling and screaming until she pushed him away with enough force to make Scabior really notice.

"Fine," Scabior said as he walked away from the crying girl, "I'll wait."

Hermione felt panick rush through her instead of arousal and clampsed her hair while walking towards the bed. She sat down on the edge and began crying.

What had she done?

What was she thinking?

The most feared snatcher? Kissing her?

An individual didn't become that feared without a reason. He had a reputation, a bad one. She had let a bad man with a bad reputation kiss her. She had let him in.

Scabior smooched his lips and put his hands in his pockets. That wasn't what he wanted her to do when he kissed her. Crying didn't really made sex better, he only accepted it when he really wanted a good fuck. But he wanted her to like it. Raping her would be too easy, getting into her mind, making her want him was what he desired.

He took the bag of clothing, threw it on the bed and said: "That'll make ye feel be'er."

"Thank you," Hermione said, fighting back her tears.

"Kiss that bad?"

Hermione looked at him and turned the corner of her lips up just a bit at his remark. She stood up and walked towards the snatcher that was standing on the other side of the room. Scabior followed her with his darting eyes until she stopped to look at the books again. Scabior moved from where he stood towards the desk with his books to where Hermione was standing. He pushed away her hair and left a kiss right behind her ear before he whispered: "You hungry yet?" in her ear.

Hermione shook her head and took out the third book of the series she had been reading.

"I would rather read," she answered.

"Right..." Scabior mumbled, "Remember tha' stupid drawing o' tha' house by the lake?"

"Yeah, did you draw it?" Hermione asked with a small voice.

"Yeah... It's uhm..." Hermione saw that his eyes dart away from her and his fore head form a frown. He was clearly struggling to find the right words, so Hermione thought she should lend him a hand.

"A touchy subject?" she asked, a gentle smile appeared for a second as a confirmation.

"Tha' woman was my mother," he said in a quiet voice, almost like a whisper, "the boy by the lake was me. It was something my dad used to talk about from time to time. 'e used to describe the picture to me and my sister. That picture was from before my mum died."

Scabior took a deep breath and continued his story with a stronger voice.

"We used to go to the lake every summer," he said, "my... father bought it when 'is business was doing good. My mother died in my second year of Hogwarts, my father blamed me. She committed suicide."

Hermione looked at Scabior's pained face and put a hand on his, that was leaning against the table.

"My father never loved me," Scabior said while he looked at his hand underneath Hermione's, "my sister was his favourite. My mum, though, she seemed to love me in 'er own twisted way. Family..."

His eyes finally moved back to the girl standing near him while he moved his hand away from underneath hers. He scraped his throat and brushed off the invisible dust on his coat before putting his hands back in the pockets of his coat.

"You go read. Enough sobby stories, eh?" he said before he planted another, this one right beneath her jaw, "Maybe now you'll have some sort of a history behind the man you think off."

"What makes you think I think of you?" Hermione said with a confident smile, pushing away the last shreds of sadness.

"Ohh… it's nothin' really, lu'v," Scabior said with a huge grin and arrogant, beaming eyes, "It was just the way you kissed."


	7. Chapter 6

**WARNING! This chapter contains either sexual content or violence. Cursing will not be marked.**

 *** * * MARKS the beginning and end of: sexual content**

 **# # #** **MARKS the beginning and end of: violence**

 **Hello, hello! I just have to say thank you for all the views and those who have favourited and followed my story, it means a lot to me. Enjoy the chapter and tell me what you think about it!**

 **Thanks to Ydream08 that this story got better in the first part of the scene. She had a little idea to make it more exciting and I loved the idea. So again, thank you ;)**

 **Chapter 6**

*SLAP*

"BLOODY FUCKIN' HELL!" he exclaimed, "The fuck ya think you're doin'?"

"Trying to kill the mosquito previously sitting on your belly," Hermione answered.

"Fuckin' hell, lu'v. How many times have I told you not to fuckin' wake me up while sleepin'? I need ta sleep. I manage this shithole. Those fuckin' authorities are just lil' shits for show. I'm the boss, the boss of a lot of nuthead drinking snatchers and I have to get up early tomorrow and find your lil' friends Scarface and flamyhead Weasel. So tell me, Granger, what is so bloody important that it couldn't wait 'till morning?" he asked while he sat up next to Hermione, who still wore Scabior's black t-shirt even though she had gotten her own clothes back.

"I know, I understand," Hermione said, trying to remain calm with the yelling man," it's just that I'm a very light sleeper and-"

"You're a very light sleeper?!" he yelled, "You're a very light sleeper?! Poor lil' Hermione Granger! I'm the one who has to fuckin' do somethin' in the mornin'. You're the one just sittin' around, aren't you?"

"Let me finish..." she sighed out, "I wanted to add that I also thought you wouldn't like having an itch all day. So..."

"Ya want me to kill it?" Scabior asked with a grunt.

"Yes, I do," she said, "you're the one with the wand."

"Yes, okay. Fine. Do I just accio that shit?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, "I don't like killing them."

"You don't like killing bloodsuckers?"

"No."

Scabior stared at Hermione for a little while and then started scratching his belly. Then it hit him.

"'e fuckin' stung me!" Scabior exclaimed, now standing up.

"That's what mosquitos do," Hermione sighed. She walked towards the big light hanging from the tent's ceiling and turned it on.

"Don't get clever with me Hermione," Scabior said with a frown," No-one likes know-it-alls."

Scabior looked around the room, he tried "Accio mosquito", but that didn't work because the mosquiteo was a living creature. He used the killing curse multiple times trying to exterminate the intruder, but missed every single time.

"Because it is such a small target," he stated.

After searching for about an hour without any killing luck, Scabior saw it sitting on the table. He sneaked towards it and smashed it dead at once with his hand.

Hermione couldn't take it. Even though the snatcher had been nothing but mean to her, he seemed to lure her into a trance in which she couldn't help but fall for him. Since the long kiss and the short but quite intruiging conversation, the dinner and two long days they hadn't kissed at all. A little more than two whole days had passed by since she last felt his lips on hers and even though she knew it wasn't the right thing to do, it did feel right. She had to kiss him again.

Scabior looked at Hermione who was smiling from ear to ear, she gestured with her hand for Scabior to come closer. She stood up, took off her shirt and got close to his ear: "I quite like your eyeliner," she chuckled in his ear, before she leaned in to press her lips against Scabior's and felt the latter soften and relax the longer they touched.

"I like it too," he laughed, happy with the nice surprise, his bare chest leaning so close to Hermione's. Hermione draped her arms around Scabior's neck and kept on kissing him. His tongue and his lips felt more precious than anything she'd ever felt before and he made her feel so safe, but so unsure at the same time.

She released the snatcher from her sensational grip and looked into his eyes before she turned off the little light on the table.

"Wait a second," Scabior said, who took a step towards the girl, "You still wear your bra during the night."

"Well," Hermione started, "you're a snatcher. You're a followerer of you-know-who. You have the deathmark on your arm, I just noticed. Also you're older than me, more experienced with everything and I just don't feel comfortable without it when I'm around you."

Scabior turned the light on again, letting the room get filled with light.

"Turn it off," Hermione said demandingly, "if you turn it on there'll come even more mosquitos."

Scabior looked at Hermione with raised eyebrows, put the light out and he lay one of his hands on Hermione's bare waist.

 *** * *** "Beau'iful," he chuckled, "take the bra off."

"It's just so I feel more comfortable around you."

"Take it off, Hermione."

"But..."

"Do as I tell you."

Hermione turned around, took off her bra and tried to put on her shirt, but Scabior stopped her. Instead he threw the shirt on the bed, put his hands on her stomach and moved up his hands until he found the location of her breasts. He gently brushed them, squeezed them and started kissing Hermione's neck and back.

Hermione let out a sigh of pleasure when his fingertips started forming rounds on her nipples, which aroused the almost entirely naked Hermione enormously. "You like it luv'?"

She let out a sound of agreement and moaned once again.

"If you want more you can ask for it."

Hemione moaned again and felt her legs weaken beneath her. The waves of pleasure and arousal rushed through her every time his lips touched her naked surface or when his fingers bumped over the stiffness of her nipples.

"A sound is not enough, luv'. Tell me if you want more."

"I want more."

"What exactly do you want?"

"I... I want you to..."

"You want me to do what?"

"You know what!"

"Actually I don't," Scabior said before he pinched her nipple slightly, "You have to tell me correctly, luv'. Or else I can't do anything for you."

"I want you to make love to me, okay?" Hermione almost screamed out.

Scabior grabbed her face and came closer so he could whisper: "I don't do making love. I do fucking."

He grabbed and kissed her fiercely, let her fall on the bed, scootched her up higher and started kissing her fiercely again. His hands moved over her body, starting at her neck, moving slowly down to her breasts, along her stomach, towards her thighs and back. But on the way back the hand moved more towards her inner thigh, where two fingers brushed gently over the side of her outer lip. But did nothing more, except leave Hermione craving for more.

Scabior's lips left Hermione's and instead moved their way towards her neck where Scabior's mouth left more and more red bruises than there already were. Scabior quickly took off his pants, but left his underwear on to let Hermione crave it even more.

"Let me see it." Hermione said slightly after Scabior had returned to her lips.

"Let you see what?" Scabior said with a grin.

"You know what!"

"You have to tell me," Scabior said before he grabbed her jaw so she couldn't help but look into his eyes.

"Your..."

"My what, Hermione?"

"Your cock."

"Say please."

"I don't have to say please."

"You sure about that?" Scabior said with a nasty smile on his face.

"Fine. Please."

"That's right, see? You can be a good girl."

Scabior took off his black boxers and showed Hermione his manhood. Hermione looked at it with big eyes and reached out her hand. Her soft hand touched the surface of the tender skin of Scabior's shaft and moved her hand up and down slowly.

Scabior grabbed her hair and pulled her towards him, "Kiss it."

Hermione moved her head and kissed the head of his dick softly.

"What are you? A little girl? Kiss it like you want to."

Hermione put her mouth against the head again and circled her tongue around it, "Much better," she heard Scabior say from above her which made her fill with joy.

She moved her mouth up and down, but not too far. His cock was soon covered in Hermione's saliva and Scabior grunted every time Hermione's mouth and tongue moved.

"Have you had enough or do you want to keep going?" Scabior asked while holding Hermione by her hair.

"Depends on what happens if I choose for having had enough," Hermione said while moving her hand up and down Scabior's shaft with her eyes fixated on Scabior.

"I could fuck you."

"I'd like that," Hermione said while she rose on her knees to soon be held down again by Scabior.

"Then take your panties off," Scabior said with a chuckle.

Hermione quickly took off her panties and sat down on the bed again. Scabior could see how much she wanted him to fuck her, but he kept holding her stare until he spoke again.

"Spread you legs."

Hermione opened her legs for Scabior and laid down a little so Scabior could have the entire view.

Scabior came closer to Hermione, lay on top of her and kissed her again, sending shivers down Hermione's spine. Scabior moved his right hand down to feel if Hermione was wet enough, but the moment he came closer to the sensitive parts of her body, she started to shake and twitch.

"Lay still, luv'."

Scabior moved his hand towards her opening and let his finger feel the wetness around it. He smiled at her, kissed her again and whispered in her ear: "Do you like my fingers around there?"

His finger circled around her opening, which made it even harder for Hermione to lay still.

"Yes, I do."

"Are you ready for my cock, luv'?"

"Yes."

"Then get comfortable, luv' and be good."

Scabior moved so he lay between Hermione's legs and lay his penis at Hermione's opening. He moved it around a few times and slid it in slowly. When he was in he picked up a faster pace, took grip of Hermione's wrists and put them above her head.

Hermione let out all sorts of sounds that screamed of pleasure and moved along the rhythm Scabior had. Scabior grunted once in awhile, kissed Hermione on her mouth and in her neck, with not a care in the world for the hickeys he was leaving behind. Scabior moved towards Hermione's ear and asked her: "Are you enjoying it, luv'?"

"Oh… yes!" she exclaimed.

"Don't hold back," Scabior chuckled, "scream all you want."

Hermione started to let out louder groans and moans, she struggled beneath Scabior's grip on her wrists, but she secretly like the harsh way he held her down. It did hurt a bit, but she loved the power he took and how he made her feel. Her insides felt like heaven. With every throb Scabior gave she felt new waves flowing through her body making her want to scream out of happiness. Scabior breathed against her neck, which made it all even more intimate. She felt every movement of his amazing, strong dick.

Hermione knew Scabior was coming closer towards climax, so she used her trick to make her come easier. She squeezed the walls of her vagina which she saw Scabior enjoyed as much as she did. Scabior started to thrust even harder than he had already done before, leaving Hermione screaming, moaning and wanting more and more. Scabior let go of the tightness around her wrist for just a second, which left her with enough time to shoot down her hand and circle around on her clit while Scabior's dick was still in her for the aftershock.

Soon she felt lightning shoot through her, leaving her screaming on the top of her lungs and made her whole body shake and rumble. Scabior thrusted even harder and harder and after just a few seconds she felt a hot substance flowing through her just after the loud groan coming from Scabior.

Scabior pulled out a few moments later and lay down next to Hermione, "That was great," Hermione said with a smile.

"It was..."

"We should do that again sometime..."

"Yeah..."

"Sorry about the..."

"The... hand thing?"Scabior asked.

"Yeah..."

"Don't do it again..."

"Yeah..."

Scabior stood up and grinned, "You felt good, princess."

The naked girl sat up and tried to grab her shirt, but Scabior snatched it away from her before her hand could touch the cotton material.

"You won't be needing tha' t'night," he said before he leaned in for a tender kiss, "nor your underwear."

Scabior on the other hand did put on his underwear and pyama bottoms again and got on top of the blankets, "Now come on, you don't want to get cold now do you?"

"I'd like some water," Hermione said as she stood up from the bed.

"There's a bottle on the table." *** * ***

Scabior watched a naked Hermione move towards the table and drink from the bottle, he licked his lips and shook his head. "beautiful" he thought.

"Scabior?"

"What is it?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Always," Scabior said while he tilted his head to the side to look at his new prize.

"How many girls have you slept with?" Hermione asked, knowing the answer wouldn't be what she wanted to hear.

"Do we have to do this right now?" Scabior asked her with utter frustration.

"Yes."

"You don't have time for your well deserved punishment, but you do have time for this conversation?"

"I don't care," Hermione said slightly irritated, "just tell me."

"Hermione, get into bed."

"I don't want to get into bed."

"Hermione!"

Hermione walked towards the bed and got beneath the blankets.

"I reckon abou'... thirty or forty," Scabior, "I've lost count for quite some time."

"Thirty or forty?"

"Well yes."

"How many did you really love?" Hermione asked, she could already guess the answer, but she asked it anyways, just to know for sure.

"No one," Scabior said without any hint of shame, "how many men have you slept with anyways?"

"I was a virgin," Hermione said shyly.

"Not even with the ginger?" Scabior asked confusion overruling his thoughts.

"I already told you that I didn't date either of them," Hermione said with a shrug while snuggling against Scabior's chest. Giving in to the craving to be close to him.

Scabior let the new information sink in and decided he was already hating this conversation.

"Did you have your first kiss before me? " Scabior asked trying to understand what was going on inside Hermione's head.

"No, you were my first kiss," Hermione said, still frustrated with the man she had then known for five days.

"So that just was the second time you kissed?" Scabior chuckled, "You are indeed a fast learner."

"How old are you Scabior?" Hermione asked dreamy.

"Twenty-four, why?" Scabior said, slightly afraid for what was about to come.

"So at twenty-four you've slept with over thirty women?"

"I reckon," Scabior said, now frustrated as well, "What does it matter, Hermione? I can sleep with whoever I want."

"How long has it been?" Hermione asked.

"Since what?"

"Since what do you think?"Hermione said a bit aggitated.

"Calm down, beau'iful," Scabior laughed out of disbelief, "I'll answer your questions if that's wha' makes you normal."

Scabior pushed Hermione off of his chest so he could face her.

"Answer the question, Scabior," Hermione sighed.

"I'd say two days before I snatched you in the woods in the woods," Scabior said very annoyed with the girl, "I haven't slept with as many since I smelled your perfume. Just five times or somethin'."

"Okay... so you haven't slept with anyone for a week or so until now?" Hermione asked, now kind of relieved.

"Yes," Scabior said with and actual a hint of arrogance.

"I just have the feeling that," Hermione said as she sat down next to Scabior, "now I've slept with you I'll be your number 41."

"A number is just a number, luv'," Scabior grunted.


	8. Chapter 7

**WARNING! This chapter contains either sexual content or violence. Cursing will not be marked.**

 *** * * MARKS the beginning and end of: sexual content**

 **# # #** **MARKS the beginning and end of: violence**

 **Hey guys! I'm rewriting a lot of my stuff, so I've taken abou 20 chapters offline. My characters were getting a bit OOC, so I hope it's all better now. Please enjoy! And I'd love for you to tell me what you're thinking. Do you like it or not? Please say so. If you have suggestions for the story, every comment is welcome.**

 **Much love.**

 **Chapter 7**

It was an early morning when Hermione woke up beneath Scabior's sheets to the sound of a man's voice yelling. The voice was rough, yet gentle, but harsh in a way that anyone within a mile could hear the man speak. She opened her eyes, sat up and ignored the feeling of her sore muscles while she put on the clothes Scabior had brought her. She shuffled towards the entrance of Scabior's tent and snuck her head outside where she saw the man she grew to fall in love with raising his voice at a man and a woman standing opposite from him.

"You're a feared man, Scabior. You seem to be the only one that's able to handle Greyback and we respect you for that, but you have to keep up that reputation." the female snatcher said.

"I'm holding up that reputation just fine, Racotty," Scabior said with thick arrogance smeared all over his words, "Giving the girl up won't change any of it."

"You haven't been in the woods for days I've heard," the woman continued on, but this time with less of a raised voice, "if someone is going to find Potter, it'll be you."

"I know it'd be me," Scabior scoffed, "I'm the one with Hermione Granger in my tent right now and guess what we're doing? That's right."

The woman rolled her eyes, crossed her arms and said: "I couldn't care less about what you do with the girl. I do care about what the Dark Lord wants and about what the Dark Lord needs. He wants the girl."

"He can't have her," Scabior said in a threatening voice, "I'm not done with her. The Dark Lord doesn't even know tha' I have 'er. Problem solved."

"We need you on the field!" Racotty screamed in disbelief, "You have no bloody need when you're sitting around all day fucking the girl we should be handing out to the Dark Lord!"

"I'm not sittin' around. I'm planning out the routes for _everyone, '_ cause _I'm_ the only one capable of having a thinking process!"

Racotty looked at the man standing next to her, who just looked back at Racotty with big eyes and shrugged with a sigh.

"Haughtiness doesn't suite you Scabior," the woman said while shaking her head.

Scabior took a step closer towards the woman arguing with Scabior's methods, "I can do what the fuck I want to do. You should learn to live with it."

"Chris," the big man standing next to Racotty said in a deep, warm voice, "She is a girl. You and me, we snatch. We like money, that's what we like."

Scabior released his stare from the woman and looked at the huge man, "I _know_ I like money."

"Than why don't you hand her over?" The man said softly with gentle gestures.

"Because I'm not done with 'er," Scabior said, pronouncing every word very carefully.

"When you think you'll be?" the man said with a frown.

"Haven't gotten a clue," Scabior answered with a underlying threat, "but for now she's mine."

The man gave Scabior looked at Scabior for another few seconds, but then nodded and turned around, leaving Racotty looking flabbergasted, "Flannel?" she yelled after him. But the huge man, apparently called Flannel didn't turn around.

"Fine," Racotty spat out, "but it doesn't mean _I'm_ done with you, Scabior."

"Didn't expect anything else. Thank Flannel for me."

"Stick it up your arse," Racotty scoffed before she turned around.

Scabior turned around and walked back towards the tent again, which startled Hermione, not knowing what to do. Hermione took a few steps back, but the moment Scabior stepped foot into the tent he looked at her and shook his head.

"What were you doing, luv'?"

"I was just..."

"Eavesdroppig?"

"No," Hermione said while she straightened her sore back.

"Don't lie to me sweetheart," Scabior said while he walked towards her and started playing with her hair, "ya know I don't like people lyin' to me."

Hermione swallowed and looked away from the glib snatcher.

"Go and say you're sorry luv'."

"I'm not sorry."

Scabior cracked a little smile and took a step closer to her, resulting in Hermione taking a step back.

"You were eavesdropping my conversation," Scabior said while holding her stare, "that's a lil' rude. Don't ya think?"

"There was never anything said about eavesdropping," Hermione told him promptly.

"Who raised you?" Scabior scoffed, "Bloody mudbloods."

Scabior sat down at the table and picked up his maps on which he started to write little notes and draw lines. Hermione sat down on Scabior's bed again and picked up the last book of his detective's collection.

"Do you like reading?" Hermione asked him after a few minutes.

"No, I just have a ton laying around for the sake of it."

"You don't have to be sarcastic," Hermione said slightly offended.

"Fine," Scabior said before he looked up from his work, "Yes, I like reading. Ya happy now?"

"No."

Scabior sighed and stood up, "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" Hermione scoffed sarcastically, "Well first off I want you to release me, but apparently you're not _done_ with me. Then of course there's the issue of you treating me like dirt and you eventually handing me over to the Dark Lord! What do I want is what you ask me? Un-be-lievable."

"Watch you tone," Scabior said threatening, "you're far too pretty for anger."

"And yet I am angry!" Hermione screamed before she threw the book she was holding in her hand at the snatcher, "I'm angry because you slept with me and because you're treating me like I'm some harlot! I'm angry with you," she said before she picked up another book to throw at him, "because you are handing me over like I'm for trade! And I'm angry with you, because I'm feeling useless! I hate feeling useless, you... filthy, filthy convict!"

Scabior let Hermione throw books at him and rage at him for a few minutes until she only breathed heavily.

"Are ya done?"

"Yes."

"Can I get back work?"

"Whatever," Hermione said with her arms crossed, "Go back to work, lock me in a cage or go off snatching innocent people. Go ahead, hand me over, leave me reading. I don't care."

"Good."

Scabior sat down again and continued working, "I'm guessing you wouldn't care for breakfast either?" He said without looking back up.

Hermione was still standing up with her arms crossed, but didn't speak another word, "Good, 'cause I'm starving."

Scabior stood up and walked out of the tent, leaving Hermione enraged with tears in her eyes.

/

When Scabior returned he grabbed Hermione, who was sitting on the bed again, by her arm and dragged her up, "You and me," Scabior said, "We're going to take a walk."

"We're not."

"Yes, we are," Scabior said before he picked up Hermione's boots and threw them at her, "Put 'em on."

"I don't want to."

"Do ya see me care?" Scabior said with a nasty grin, "Now bloody, put those on."

Hermione shot Scabior another death stare and put on her boots, "Your coat?"

Hermione ignored Scabior's gesture to help her with her coat and snatched it out of his hands before walking outside the tent.

The snatcher, who was still standing inside the tent smootched his lips and followed the young woman, "Lovely weather isn't?" Scabior said sarcastically due to the dark clouds hovering above them.

"Superb."

They walked in silence over the snatchers field and received multiple greetings, mostly to Scabior, but some to Hermione, mostly sexual. Scabior gave them a threatening look or even drew his wand a few times.

Scabior felt threatened rather easily.

When they finally reached the end of the camp full of drunks and savages, they started walking through the woods. Hermione actually quite loved the walk Scabior choose for them. She could just see the sky above through the trees, just how they both liked it and the branches were dancing in the wind as a few raindrops fell down from the sky.

Finally Hermione's feet touched the ground outside of the snatcher's camp and finally she felt like she was completely alone with Scabior.

"You finish those detectives yet?" Scabior asked, trying to start the conversation.

"Almost, I'm finishing up the last one," Hermione responded, jumping over a fallen tree trunk with the help of Scabior.

"Ya like i'?" he asked, before he let go of her hand, but not of her stare.

"They're good books," she said with a gentle smile.

"What ya going to read next?" he said, talking about the only common field they had which he knew off.

"Your Jane Austen _collection,"_ she answered with a chuckle, which made Scabior crack a little smile, which he turned back to it's usual neutrality in a matter of seconds.

Even though Scabior barely laughed or smiled, Hermione loved it when he did. She had never seen him show his teeth while smiling, let alone laugh out loud, but the few times a smile appeared on his face, she enjoyed it.

"The Jane Austen collection was retrieved from one of my first trips," Scabior explained, "I had read all o' the books I brought with me by the time I went on tha' trip, so I started reading one o' those. Not the genre I'd pick, but it wasn't all tha' horrible."

Hermione smiled a little as she looked at the man walking beside her, "She _is_ one of the best authors of all time."

Scabior stopped walking and looked at Hermione, "You smell."

"Pardon?"

"Oh... Not like _tha',"_ Scabior grunted, "You smell like lavender."

Hermione looked at the first man ever noticing one of her details and nodded, "It's my perfume."

"It's..." Scabior took a deep breath and finally said: "Pleasant."

"Thank you."

Scabior continued walking next to Hermione in silence for another few minutes until Hermione started the conversation again.

"You're very well read."

"For a snatcher?"

"In general."

Scabior wasn't familiar with talking at all. He only talked about women and treasure with snatchers and didn't talk about anything else. But yet here he was walking through the woods with a woman he desired, but couldn't love.

He desired her smell, her body, her love, but he couldn't give her support and a shoulder to cry on. He couldn't give her deep conversations or shallow ones, he couldn't even give her her freedom.

The man behind the number one snatcher had faded and the hole left behind by his dark past and his time in Azkaban had been filled with cruelty and anger. Even when Scabior was quiet or calm, there was a raging fire inside of him, dying to break lose, but lost in a maze of thoughts on how. The girl walking next to him had the same anger and the same fire, but her maze was non existing.

She let her fire burn and everyone saw it burn behind her eyes filled with intelligence. While the fire burning inside her was providing her strenght and courage, it also provided her weakness. It provided her caring. While Scabior's rage and passion was carefully locked up, he was also incapable of caring.

 *** * *** "Scabior?"

"Yes," he said with a mysterious smug grin.

"Would you fuck me?"

"More than anythin' in the world."

Scabior took the spontanious outing of lust from the girl he desired and swung her against a tree. He had had women against a tree before, but not a girl like her. Not one with a heart he still had to concur.

He kissed her deeply and let his tongue slide against her's gently, while his hands weren't gentle at all. While one was on her bottom, the other one had grabbed her hair. Hermione and her feelings were still processing the kiss and the touch of his hands. Her own made their way under his clothing where she could feel every curve and every deep scar of his body. She could feel his hot breath against her tender skin and his warmth against her hands, making her want him even more.

Hermione couldn't describe what she felt for Scabior. She had been having feelings for Ron for quite some time, but it didn't feel like anything compared to what she was feeling at that moment. The unending attraction towards the nasty snatcher was the source of her rumbling guilt, but also of the way she was kissing him. When she thought about her future during her years attending Hogwarts, she never thought of herself ending up with a snatcher in the woods. The war was unexpected, but feeling the way she felt towards Scabior was a different kind unexpected.

She felt her stomach twist and between her wanting the snatcher and her resenting him, but she couldn't help but let her lust take over. Her hands took off Scabior's coat and threw it on the ground, exposing his strong, bare arms. Hermione ran her hands across them and back up towards his broad shoulder. Scabior groaned against Hermione's neck as he kissed his way down along her already bruised neck.

Scabior's hands moved from the female's body to his own where he loosened his belt and later Hermione's. Every time Scabior's lips lost track of Hermione's he would sense them back and lean in for another wave of tender loving. Scabior didn't like it fluffy, he wanted it rough, but in that moment he almost lost the way he normally was with women and traded it for wanting to feel every fiber of Hermione's body.

He felt her warm breath against his neck as he lifted Hermione up.

The walk was a good idea. *** * ***

/

"You're not going back to Scarface and Redhead," Scabior said, looking down at the girl smaller than him as they walked their way back to the tent.

"But..."

"No buts," Scabior told her.

"I have to, Scabior."

"I can't let ya."

"Yes, you can," Hermione scoffed without looking directly at the man witholding her from her freedom.

"I can't," Scabior said, now with a bit more anger, "I would get killed and if I for some reason won't... Then there's no chance in hell I'd ever be respected again."

"You selfish ar..."

"Behave."

"Fine, I'll behave," Hermione sighed, "but it is selfish. It is a selfish thing to do. It's my freedom we're talking about right now. My life for Heaven's sake! And all you're thinking about is that you'll miss your sexslave."

"You are not just my sexslave."

"Oh yeah? You have feelings for me?"

"What do you want me to do, huh?" Scabior screamed at her, "What do you want me ta do? 'Cause I can't keep you 'ere with all o' those bastards all alone."

"You _are_ one of those bastards, Scabior!" Hermione screamed back, "You're just like them! You're not better than them whatsoever!"

Scabior licked his lips and shook his head before he started walking again.

"I didn't mean it like that," Hermione told him while she ran after Scabior, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"Yes, you did," Scabior scoffed, "You did, I felt i'. Don't pity me! I don't care."

"You're not like those men," Hermione told him, "Please, Scabior, don't be mad."

Scabior stopped walking and looked at the scared girl, "I'm not mad," he smiled a sarcastic smile,"You confuse me."

"What?"

"You."

"What about me?"

"What to do with you."

"Come with me," Hermione said while she took a step towards Scabior, "Come with me and leave all of this behind, my friends will take care of you."

"That'd get me killed."

"No it wouldn't!" Hermione said with a smile, "I'm part of the order of the Phoenix! They're very powerful wizards, you'll be safe there."

"I won't, luv', " Scabior said while shaking his head, "First off, your friends will kill me on the spot, my face is quite known, ya know. Second off, tha' lovely camp of snatchers over there'll start looking for me and kill me and your friends on the spot and then we have the small problem of me not even wanting to join your so called _Order_."

"Why not?"

"You're ignoring the me _dying_ part," Scabior smiled while fumbling with the scarf around his head, "It's not something worth missing, I hope."

"Why wouldn't you want to join our side?"

"I'm part o' this side," he said, "When I say I'm not a supporter of the Dark Lord, I'm not immediately sayin' Scarface is my way ta go."

"So you're going to fight for this side?" Hermione scoffed.

"Yeah! That was the plan."

"Un-be-lievable."

"What did ya expect, luv'?" Scabior said while he raised his hands above him, "Tha' you'd be able to change me? Get me over to join your lil' friends? Give up everythin' that I've build for myself?"

"I guess not."

"I guess not."

Hermione bit her lip and looked down, "So what _will_ you do with me?"

"I'm not sure luv'," Scabior said while taking a step towards the girl, "but what I am sure of is tha' it involves a lot of fucking."


	9. Chapter 8

**Hey guys! Please do tell me if you like or dislike the story or an aspect of the story. New chapter already, I'm still rewriting the rest. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 8**

Scabior sat in his chair reading the Snatcher's Newspaper, in which the snatching news would be updated. He drank his black coffee and ate Hermione's leftovers while reading and ignored Hermione tapping impatiently at the table. Hermione had finished the detectives the afternoon after their walk and the Austen collection in the two days after, making her utterly frustrated about not being able to choose between three muggle books.

Suddenly Scabior looked up from his newspaper, directly at Hermione and put down his coffee. "I think they know you're here," he said, almost whispering, "every week there is an update on Scarface, Redhead and you, but you're left out."

Hermione sat up and frowned, "Does it have to mean they know?"

"Not necessarily, but," Scabior folded his newspaper and scratched his head, "If they don't know, they'll figure it out. Racotty is the editor of this bloody newspaper, the bitch. LeStrange, she's smart, she'll figure it out."

"What are we going to do?" Hermione asked quite panicked.

"I can't do _anything_ ," Scabior said, realising his lack of power in this situation, "I have to hand ya over."

"What?"

"I've got to hand you over, Hermione," Scabior repeated.

"You don't _have_ to," Hermione scoffed, "Just let me go."

"We've been over this Hermione!" he said aggitated before he stood up, "I'd get killed. I've got to."

"No! You can't!" Hermione screamed, "Scabior, you can't!"

"I have no fucking choice, luv'," Scabior said while resting his head in his hands, his arms resting on the table, "Either they come and get you and kill me for not handing you over right away, or I release ya and they kill me in some other way or I come and hand you over."

"You bastard!"

Scabior stood up and licked his lips, "Pack your bags."

"No."

"Yes. I said pack your bags."

"They'll kill me! They'll torture me!" Hermione screeched out while hitting Scabior's chest with her fist, "Don't do this, Scabior! I'm begging you."

Scabior started gathering Hermione's clothes and folding them until she said: "Do you care for me at all?"

He put down her clothes and turned towards the panicked girl, "Hermione..."

"Answer me! Do you care for me?"

Scabior swallowed and tried to speak, but not a word was released.

"Please?" she screamed, "Anything?"

The painful silence coming from Scabior's end of the room left Hermione with pain in her heart. Over the week she had grown affection for the vain, cruel snatcher. Knowing that he didn't return any of the feelings left her deeply hurt.

"Pack your bags," Scabior said after a while, "It'll just be you and me. My team won't come."

Scabior grabbed his coat and walked away from the girl, leaving her with tears in her eyes. Hermione took a deep breath to withold her from letting any tears drop: "How could I have been so stupid?" she said to herself, "So blind?"

/

"I told the men and the authorities that I'm taking you to the Malfoy mansion," Scabior said, "Ya ready ta go?"

"No."

"What is it?" Scabior said aggitated, "What is it now, Hermione? Ya want me to sacrifice myself for ya again?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and swallowed, "I just wanted to go to the bathroom, is all."

After Scabior threw some clothes and books in a bag, he took Hermione to the bathrooms, let her go into the lady's one for once and together they walked away from the camp. Hermione turned around for a final look at the gathering of tents full of snatchers and death-eaters and looked at Scabior with big eyes.

"So that's it?" she asked him.

"We still have to get there," he told her, "quite a walk."

"Why are we walking then?" Hermione asked him.

"It's a rule, we don't apperate with prisoners," Scabior said, "it sometimes happens they somehow screw the apperation up, resulting in nasty situations."

"Right."

Scabior started walking with big steps without looking back at Hermione, when he finally heard the soft creaks of her feet breaking twigs and crushing leaves he smiled a little. It could be nice to have some company that wasn't ridiculous from time to time. Especially if the company smelled like lavender.

They walked in silence for quite a few hours in utter silence, Scabior stopped and dropped his bags on the ground. He sat down at the forest floor and leaned against a tree trunk. Hermione stopped, raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

"Are you gonna sit, or what?" Scabior scoffed.

"Why are we resting?" Hermione asked him before she put down her bag.

"You're not really expecting me to answer tha'?"Scabior asked before he opened his bag and took out a paperbag containing sandwiches.

Hermione took a deep breath and sat down opposite from Scabior and went through the bag of sandwiches to find one she'd really like. Once she'd found a sandwich that looked like a turkey, cucumber sandwich she leaned against the tree and took a bite. It wasn't too bad.

"Who made these?" Hermione said after she swallowed her third bite.

Scabior looked up from his map and blinked: "I did."

"You can cook?" Hermione asked him with a grin.

"Glad you like it."

They ate their sandwhiches in silence, drank half a bottle of pumpkinjuice and lay down.

"How long still to go?" Hermione asked, not sitting up to look at Scabior.

"We've walked eleven and a half miles by now," Scabior answered, "We've been walking for about four hours. From here to the Malfoy mansion is thirty two and a third mile in total so about another twenty-one miles to go."

"Twenty and four fifth mile," Hermione corrected him.

"Rounded, that's twenty-one," Scabior snickered.

"You're not accurate enough," Hermione told him, "Accuracy is very important."

"Accuracy is important when the question is important," the man grunted, "Your question wasn't a question asking for my accuracy, but for how long we'd still have to walk. One fifth of a mile isn't important enough for perception of time."

"You're a know-it-all," Hermione snickered at him.

"Says who?"

Hermione laughed and sat up, "So we'd have to walk for another 7 hours or so?"

Scabior, who was still laying down with his arms functioning as a pillow, said, "Tha's right."

"What time is it?" Hermione asked him, hating how little information she had.

"Look at the sun," Scabior grunted before sitting up again.

Hermione looked up to the sky and saw the sun beaming almost above her. She looked back at the sky and started thinking. The sun rises in the east, so we're facing north right now. The sun is just past us, so its: "About one."

"Correct," Scabior said with an arrogant smile, "Very well, miss Granger. Shall we continue our trip?"

"My feet are hurting," she answered.

"Would ya like me to carry you?" Scabior grinned.

"No."

"Then stop nagging," Scabior said before he picked up his bags and gestured for Hermione to get up, "and start walking."

Hermione stood up and picked up her own bag as well, she took a few big steps to catch up with Scabior and said: "You have been nice a few times, actually."

"Point being?"

"You're being an absolute pain in the arse the past few days."

"Goes parallel with you being a pain."

"You told me about that drawing," Hermione said, thinking it'd be the right time for the conversation, "about your mum."

"I do not want to talk about it, beau'iful," Scabior said with a grunt, "I prefer our past silence, actually."

"Why? Why are you suddenly so distant and even meaner than before?"

"I'm not meaner than before," Scabior said as he shot a look at Hermione, "you're making it up."

"You're unbelievable."

"Unbelievably sexy."

"Never mind, I'll just shut up."

* * *

After another two hours of walking, they finally reached the end of the woods. Facing a beauiful view of fields and landlanes, Hermione said: "That man called Flannel called you Chris."

"Christopher."

"Is that your first name?"

"Yeah..."

"A first name almost makes you seem human," Hermione told him with a grin.

"Such a compliment for a man you've seen naked," Scabior said returning the grin.

"What would you like to hear, dear Scabior?" Hermione asked him seductively, "How I dream about you shagging me? About how I check out your arse when you bend over? About how I love it when you touch me and how I crave every sensation you create?"

Scabior looked at Hermione surprised and said: "Sounds good luv'. Keep it up."

"Keep what up? Your cock?" Hermione asked while she took as step closer towards Scabior.

"Even be'er," he said while he lay his hand on Hermione's cheek, until Hermione once again raised her knee against Scabior's manly parts.

Hermione dropped her bag and ran away as fast as she could, towards the woods, where she started zigzagging her way through.

"Ohh... the things she does to my manly parts," Scabior grunted, "Goddamnit!"

Scabior stood up and started moving towards the edge of the wood again, where he saw movement in the far distance. He stretched his legs for a second and started sprinting. While jumping over tree-trunks and avoiding branches he started yelling out: "Stupefy" every time he saw movement ahead of him.

When he finally got a clear shot of the girl he cursed her and saw her fall onto the ground. Her eyes were wide open, but her whole body was paralysed.

"Beau'iful... What did I say about running away?" Scabior said singingly, "OH right! Ya can't talk. I said that it would be a waste of our time! And look at us. Waisted 15 minutes of precious time and me walking you back to the edge of the woods will cost us another forty-five minutes or so. Ya happy now, luv'? Ya satisfied?"

Scabior swung Hermione over his shoulder and started walking in the direction he came from. "I told ya," Scabior grunted, "I told ya many, many times."

* * *

When Scabior reached the end of the woods he put Hermione down and sat down next to the bags until Hermione could move again. When she began moving, Scabior immediately chained her. "I should've chained you in the first place," Scabior mumbled, "Would've saved us quite some time waiting for you to be able to move again and all."

When Hermione could finally use her vocal abilities again she said: "Why did you go after me? You could've just let me go! No-one would've known!"

"Of course they would've," Scabior answered while he stood up again and pulled Hermione up with him, "I'm a fast runner, you're a girl."

"You're a swine," Hermione spat at him, "That was my last chance you awful, awful man! I'm going to die and it's your fault!"

"No, it's not," Scabior said, "It's your own. You should've run faster."

"You're an arsehole."

"You used _seduction_ to distract me!"

"Right, because that hasn't happened to you before."

"I'm still in charge 'here, luv', " Scabior said before he pushed her forward, "So keep the sarcasm down."

"Fuck you and your powerplay," Hermione yelled, "I am done with you and the way you treat me. I am Hermione Jean Granger, I am not to be spoken down on and I am not to be humiliated. Now you are either going to change your attitude or I'm going to tell LeStrange about how long you've been holding me captive without telling the _Dark Lord_."

Scabior took a deep breath and started walking again, "You're going to play dirty, Hermione?"

"If necessary, yes," Hermione said arrogantly.

"You think so highly of yourself," Scabior scoffed, "but you're nothing. Nothing! You're just Potter's lil' mudblood bitch."

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione snickered, "I am the best student of my year, the smartest witch of my time and I can outsmart you in any way possible."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really."

"Legilimens!" Scabior pointed his wand at Hermione, causing her to fall to her knees and try keeping her emotional walls up, so Scabior couldn't penetrate her mind.

She slowly felt Scabior getting inside her thoughts, but she did everything she could to keep him out. She felt the energy being drawn out of her until she could feel an extra set of eyes inside her mind. What memory to show him, which one?

 _"Mummy?"_

 _"Yes, sweetheart."_

 _"Why is grandpa dying?"_

 _"He isn't dying sweetheart, he just has a cold," her mother said with a small smile, "Why do you think he's dying?"_

 _"I just do."_

 _"Just like you knew that it was going to storm?"_

 _"No! That was the little rain drop," the little girl giggled, "Grandpa is different."_

 _"What's different about it Hermione?"_

 _"It was just like the frog."_

 _"What frog?"_

 _"It became a rock."_

Scabior fell back the moment he got outside of Hermione's head, "How old were you?"

"Six."

Hermione stood up, grabbed her bag with her chained hands and started walking, "Still think I'm nothing?"


	10. Chapter 9

**WARNING! This chapter contains either sexual content or violence. Cursing will not be marked.**

 *** * * MARKS the beginning and end of: sexual content**

 **# # #** **MARKS the beginning and end of: violence**

 **Hey guys! Another chapter already. I'm rewriting the whole story, so if you've read the first version: yes, it's new. If someone who has read the first version could please tell me which version they prefer, it would be highly appreciated :)**

 **Anyhow, new chapter! Enjoy.**

 **Chapter 9**

"You're not an occlumens," Scabior groaned after they had walked in silence for another mile or so.

"I know that," Hermione answered him, "I was teaching myself while I was travelling with Harry and Ron, but I never managed to finish it."

"That's okay, it's a hard skill to learn," Scabior said while he put his hands in his coat, "I needed two years to learn it."

"You learned it in Azkaban?" Hermione asked before she looked at the man for the first time since half an hour.

"Yeah... Dementors have the tendency to sneak inside prisoner's minds. I didn't like it."

"Right..."

Hermione's wrist were still bound together by a tight rope and her feet were chained two feet apart. She disliked how Scabior had chained her, but she could understand why he did so.

It had been her last hope, that run.

She had heard that Bellatrix LeStrange had a thing for her and soon she would find out what was meant by that.

Hermione looked at Scabior and saw a wrecked man. Not only wrecked, but shattered. Sometimes when they talked she could see the shards of his humanity flicker through the slits of the wall he kept up, but she could never see what was truly behind the man.

Most of the time Hermione could figure a person out within minutes, but Scabior? Scabior challenged her.

"What was it you did?" Hermione asked him.

"Azkaban?"

"Yes, what did you do?"

"You wouldn't want to know," Scabior said with a plain face, "it ain't pretty, unlike you."

"Thievery?"

Scabior looked at her with a raised eyebrow and turned his face back towards the road, "Ya don't get send to Azkaban for thievery, luv'."

"Torture?" Hermione continued, "Murder?"

Scabior kept on walking along the road without responding to Hermione.

"Rape? Abuse? Misuse of magic?"

"Good ol' Merlin, sweetheart," Scabior sighed, "Would you stop?"

"No! I want to know."

"10 minutes ago you weren't as eager to know," Scabior snickered at her, "Why the sudden interest?"

"Well I won't speak to you anymore after I enter the Malfoy mansion," Hermione answered, "Might as well get to know the man that took my virginity."

"Ya know I read books," Scabior said while he counted the things on his fingers, "ya know I have a mum who killed herself, ya know I draw, ya know I snatch and am good at it."

"Yeah, but that doesn't matter," Hermione told him.

"Oh so that doens't ma'er to you?" Scabior said with a sarcastic smile, "Good ta know."

"Of course it matters!"

"Ya just told me otherwise."

"Scabior!"

"What?"

"Just bloody tell me!"

Scabior took a deep breath and said: "We're going ta walk another mile before we set up camp, we'll leave tomorrow at dawn."

* * *

With a flick of his wand Scabior protected himself and Hermione from the outside world. No sound they made could be heard, nor could the prisoner and the snatcher be seen.

Travelling without a tent was what snatchers did. Their heavy load of people, food and drinks was far enough for them to carry while going on a trip, so that night Scabior and Hermione slept beneath a sky full of stars.

The sleeping bags were laid out, a humble fire was smoking a few feet from Hermione and the smell of roast vegetables flew around beneath their noses. Hermione leaned back against a tree and looked at the man that had stolen from the kitchen cooking above the fire and smiled a little. When he'd be sitting down beside that fire he almost seemed vulnerable.

Hermione stared at the man until he turned around and faced her, "What you lookin' at?"

"Nothing."

"Right," he said with a vain grin, "Ya hungry?"

"Yeah, a bit," Hermione admitted, "but I can't eat with my hands tied up."

Scabior stood up and crossed his arms with a frown, "Untie you?"

"Yes."

Scabior tilted his head to the left and took a step closer towards the girl sitting on the forest ground, "Promise you won't try anything."

"You're going to believe a promise?" Hermione asked before she remembered it wasn't the smartest thing to say in her situation.

"A promise," Scabior said after he licked his lips, "is worth more than gold can buy. My word is worth more than all of my belongings and it should be worth more than yours too."

"Well... yes, of course!" Hermione exclaimed, "No-one should ever break a promise, not even you."

"Not even me?" Scabior asked with a face full of disbelief, "Not even a thief, murderer and soldier of fortune?"

"I didn't mean it like that!" Hermione said with a roll of her eyes.

Scabior squatted down next to the girl that had just insulted him and untied her wrists, "So what will it be? Zucchini, tomato or aubergine?"

"I don't like aubergine," Hermione stated.

"So," Scabior said with a small smile, "Zucchini and tomato? Bit of both?"

"Yes, please," Hermione said with a kind smile.

Scabior stood up and put two tomatos and half a zucchini on a plate, took the plate towards Hermione and said: "Careful, though. It's hot."

"Like you'd care if I burned my mouth?" Hermione scoffed.

"More than you'd know."

Hermione looked up at the man standing above her and looked down at her plate again. She smooched her lips and started fumbling with her wrists, "Thanks for untying me."

"Sure."

"And thanks for the food," she said before she'd forget it again, "really."

"Not a problem."

Scabior turned around and started preparing his own meal. He sat down next to the fire and didn't move until the sun was down. When the two were surrounded by a forest covered in darkness he turned around and walked towards the girl, still sitting against a tree, but this time staring into nothing.

 *** * *** "I want you to kiss me," Scabior finally said before he stood still for a solid few minutes.

Hermione looked up at the man whose face was a shadow, but whose body was lined by the weak light coming from the small fire a yard away. She stood up, making her chains clang against one another. "Okay," Hermione said.

She put her hands on each side of Scabior's face and leaned in to smell his unique, but manly odor and gently brushed her lips against his until Scabior put his hands on her waist and pulled her in for a deep kiss. His hands were gentle, but demanding, making Hermione know who was in charge, but every touch wasn't like she had known from before.

He touched her differently. More gently. More loving.

Scabior started walking forwards to where the sleepingbags lay and guarded her to lie down. The fire was still burning just three feet away, which Hermione felt by the warm sensation covering the surface of her cheek. Scabior breathed in deeply and kissed her again, making her tingle all over. His hair fell against the side of Hermione's face and his hands were next her head.

The kisses Scabior left behind became more and more passionate. Every time his lips touched hers he felt another bolt of joy flowing through him and every time his tongue twirled around hers he'd feel as if he was in heaven.

The trial of red spots and bruises on Hermione's neck hadn't faded, the aggresiveness he had kissed her with was still burning inside him and all he wanted to do was press his lips against her soft, warm skin and hear the sound of her moan tease him. The kisses were gentle, but not gentle enough to stop making Hermione feel her body burn up.

As another kiss was planted against the side of Hermione's neck, Scabior could feel her heart pumping faster and faster making Scabior harden up.

He slowly unbuttoned Hermione's top, unbuttoned Hermione's jeans and let himself take in all of her sweet sensation, including her lavender smell. He untied the scarf around his neck, reached for her hands and tied them up above her head. "Be'er than rope, ain't it luv'?" Scabior whispered in Hermione's ear.

But instead of the answer Scabior expected she said, "Actually, I would like to be on top."

Scabior moved his head to face her and licked his lips, "Well go on then."

Hermione loosened the grip of the scarf and before she could ask, Scabior had already lifted up the chains weighing her down. The already loosened shirt lay loose on the ground after Hermione had taken it of and leaned in for another flaming kiss.

Scabior's hands moved across Hermione's back, leaving her with goosebumps, but good ones. She started to undress her lover by taking off his coat, vest and shirt, laying him bare for her to look at. She moved towards his belt, which she opened seductively while pressing her lips against Scabior's mouth.

His belt fell on the forest ground with a thud only they could hear. Her lips were still dancing with his as Scabior's hands took off Hermione's bra. Hermione lowered Scabior's trousers, took off her own and her underwear and kept kissing the naked, now so vulnerable man laying beneath her.

"I don't like this, "Scabior grunted, "I like being on top."

"You're handing me over," Hermione stated through her kisses, "I deserve a night of control." *** * ***


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 _"Hermione are you there?" a voice said in her head, "Are you there? Hellooo?."_

 _The voice was weak and in the back of her mind and the dream Hermione was having before was fading into a dark space with no light except for the silhouette of a man. The man was vague and far away, but sometimes the silhouette became a bit clearer, but sometimes suddenly weakened off again._

 _"Hermione, it's Sirius," the voice galmed, "It's Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. Are you there?"_

 _The girl, fast asleep, but with concious finally recognised the man. The silhouette cleared up and there she saw the man called Sirius Black standing, with concern covering his face, but also some relief._

 _"I'm here," a representation of her concious said, "I'm here, Sirius."_

 _Sirius' face lightened up and soon he started yelling into the unending darkness: "She's there! I've got her, Harry!"_

 _She heard yelling and shouting in the background, but it soon faded away as Sirius rose his hand and faced Hermione again._

 _"Hermione, can you tell me where you are?"_

 _"I don't know where I am," she answered._

 _"Can you describe the scenery to me?" Sirius asked as he took a step forward, "Anything at all?"_

 _"I'm in the woods," she answered, "near big fields and farms."_

 _"Why are you there?"_

 _"A snatcher is taking me to the Malfoy Mansion," she answered as her thoughts were clearing up._

 _"Okay! Okay, that's good Hermione," Sirius said with a broad smile, "Why are you being taken to the Malfoy Mansion?"_

 _"Bellatrix LeStrange wants me, Sirius. I'm scared."_

 _Sirius nodded and frowned, "Will you-know-who be there?"_

 _"I don't know," she answered, "maybe eventually, I heard them talk about Voldemort. I figured he'd need me for something."_

 _"Don't worry, Hermione," Sirius said with a sad smile, "we are going to get you out of there. How far away from the Mansion are you?"_

 _"I don't know," she answered, "we've been walking a long time, I think I'll be there at the end of today. We're leaving by dawn."_

 _"Okay, that's good," Sirius told her, "We're getting you out of there, I promise you. Are you hurt?"_

 _"No, I'm not hurt," she answered, "I'm okay."_

 _"I'm glad to hear it," Sirius said._

 _"How is everyone back there?" Hermione asked Sirius, "Is everyone okay?"_

 _"Yes, everyone's fine, Hermione," he answered, "you've got nothing to worry about."_

 _"Just hurry up, okay?" Hermione's voice said inside her dream, "I want to go home."_

 _"We will, stay strong Hermione," Sirius said while his voice and silhouette started fading away._ Right after he had totally vanished, Hermione gasped and opened her eyes into reality. She tears rolling over her cheeks and her breath was going up and down.

Finally, after ten days she had heard from her friends. They had found a way to reach her and they were going to get her.

* * *

"Hermione," she heard a voice whisper seductively in her ear, "Wakey wakey! Rise and shine."

Hermione groaned and sat up to look at the man sitting next to her with a smug grin.

"I dislike mornings," she stated, "especially when I'm laying on the cold ground of a forest."

"Yeah? Well get over yourself," Scabior grunted before he stood up again to walk back towards his new fire, "Coffee or not?"

"Sure," Hermione said with a tat brighter mood due to the availabe coffee, "I'm starving though."

"Sandwiches are in my bag," Scabior said without taking an eye off his precious coffee.

Scabior took the boiling water and filtered it through his coffee. His face lightened up as the glorious aroma filled his nostrils with bitter goodness. He took a cup from his bag, poured some coffee into it and took a sip. Nothing like a good cup of coffee.

Hermione had grabbed the bag with sandwiches and sat down next to Scabior silently. She took the cup of coffee from Scabior and grabbed a sandwich from the bag which she ate without saying a word. Scabior did the exact same.

Together they enjoyed the view of the long lands they had walked being filled with the first lights of the day. As the sandwiches were being saturated and the coffee was being drunk there was actual peace between the two. Hermione had hope again and Scabior knew Voldemort would love him for his accomplishments.

The two were both blinded by their own happiness to notice their companion's shift in mood.

They packed up the sleepingbags, put out the fire and the charms protecting them and started walking again. "What time will we be at the Mansion?" Hermione asked Scabior as her foot touched the ground for the hundreth time that day.

"Why'd you ask?" Scabior grunted as he jumped over a fallen treetrunk.

"Just to have an idea of the day," Hermione answered with a gentle smile.

"We've walked about seventeen to eighteen miles yesterday," Scabior told her, "I already told you it's 32 miles to the Malfoy mansion so another 14 miles to go."

"What time do you figure we'll get there?" Hermione asked him.

"With the pace we had yesterday we should be walking for about five hours," Scabior answered, "We're not fast walkers... throw in another break or two and we'll be on our way for about six hours."

"And it's what time now?"

"It's 7.30 am," Scabior answered, "Rounded off."

"So we'll be there at half past one?" Hermione asked him with big eyes, "Could we maybe take a nap during the day somewhere? I'm exhausted."

"You would like to take a nap?" Scabior scoffed.

"Yes, I would," Hermione answered, "If you wouldn't you could roast some more vegetables for lunch or something?"

"I suppose we could," Scabior answered, "Ahh why the hell not? I love some rest from time to time."

"Great," Hermione said with a smile.

Scabior looked at Hermione and frowned: "You almost made me forget about your chains, Granger."

"You want to put me in chains again? Fine. Go ahead," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes, _It will only slow us down_ , she thought.

* * *

 _"Sirius? Sirius are you there?" Hermione yelled in her dream, "Sirius? I need to speak with you."_

 _Hermione had found a way to return to the utter darkness in which she had found herself that previous night. She couldn't see anything but a very vague figure, far, far away. It had to be Sirius, it couldn't be anyone else but him._

 _"Sirius!" she exclaimed with all the mental capacity she had. She saw a flicker. The light in the back of her head gained more strength. The light turned into a silhouette and the silhouette was Sirius Black's."_

 _"You've found a way to reach me," he said, "That's very good. Are you awake or asleep?"_

 _"Asleep."_

 _"All right, is everything okay over there?"_

 _"Yes," she answered, "everything's fine, but I'm arriving earlier than I thought. I managed to get you another hour or two, but not longer than that."_

 _"What time do you expect getting there, then?"_

 _"I figure between half past two and three," she answered, "I'm so sorry."_

 _"No, Hermione, it's okay, sweetheart," he answered, "We're figuring out a plan."_

 _"Hurry up."_

Hermione woke up from her dream and sat up. Her eyes darted to Scabior sitting against a tree. His eyes were closed and his breathing was steady, so Hermione suspected that he was sleeping. Hermione couldn't go anywhere, Scabior had chained her to a tree.

She leaned against the tree Scabior had chained her to and looked around. She wondered what time it was, so looked up at the sky and saw the bulb of light hanging above her. The later it got the better, the lesser time with Bellatrix and more time for her friends to find a way to get her the hell out of her terrifying situation.

She tried to relax, but a stabbing pain in her stomach and her hardened shoulder muscles prevented her from doing so. The stabbing pain wasn't hunger. She had experienced the sensation many times before at Hogwarts when she felt like she was under a lot of pressure, but now it wasn't pressure. It was fear.

Hermione didn't show any of her pains to Scabior. Not her stomach ache, not her sore muscles, nor her bruises, her blisters and tired feet. Not her stiff neck, pained back and throbbing head. She couldn't show weakness to him, but did he feel the same pains as she did?

A nose-muscle in Scabior's face twitched before he let out a dark groan sounding like "No". His leg twitched, his frown grew and a tear escaped from his eye. Suddenly he screamed and opened his eyes to realise it was only a dream. He took deep, long breaths and lay his hand on his heart as if it was pumping way faster than it should. He leaned back agains the tree again and looked over at Hermione, who was staring at him with big eyes.

"Ya did not see tha', " Scabior told her after he regained his strength, "it was nothin'."

"I'm sure it was."

Scabior stood up and walked towards the place where once was a fire crackling and sat down to build another.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Hermione asked him.

"Oh... fuck off, luv'."


	12. Chapter 11

**Hey guys!**

 **Thank you so much for your lovely reviews, follows and favourites. I love it so much when you comment! Makes me all warm and fuzzy inside :)**

 **Shoutout to _lollipop25_** **for being my so generous to spend her time correcting my silly typos and grammar mistakes! Much love.**

 **Enjoy the new chapter!**

 **Chapter 11**

"Do you have frequent nightmares?" Hermione asked after she felt a raindrop land on her nose.

"What part of fuck off did you not understand?" Scabior snickered at her.

"Are they about Azkaban?"

"Hermione, luv', you're crossing a line here!" he sang sarcastically before he kicked a rock laying in front of him.

"About your mother?"

"Could you stop?"

"But I want to know," Hermione said.

"I know ya want to know, but you should keep your curious, lil' nose out of my business."

"Scabior..."

"Keep walkin'."

And so the duo kept on walking the side roads and the fields, heading towards the destination Hermione feared. The mood Hermione and Scabior were in was changed by the change of weather. Dark clouds hovered above them as they kept on tiring their sore feet. Talking about feet, Hermione's had started dragging hers to the annoyance of Scabior.

He knew, of course, how a pain long walks could be, but to see the girl slowing them down like that frustrated him deeply. He didn't say a word, though. He would've to anyone else, but he decided that maybe for this once he should keep his mouth shut.

 _Already three o'clock_ , Hermione thought and hell, she was praying to God for her friends to have found her a solution, but she feared it might take a while longer than the time of arrival at the Malfoy Mansion.

After her nap and her short bickering with Scabior she had found herself having several blisters all over her feet. With every step she felt them burning and her legs weaken until she stepped into a gap in the road and tumbled. She fell onto her knees and hands and phanted. The last drops of energy had spilled as she took those last steps. How could she ever go on for another two miles?

Scabior rolled his eyes and walked towards Hermione: "Ya feet hurt, beau'iful?"

"Yes, they're hurting," Hermione said, "I'm really tired, Scabior."

The snatcher bit his lip and sighed, "What do ya want me to do? Ya want to take a break?"

"For the least, yes," she said as she loosened her shoes after she had sat down at the side of the road, "Could you maybe heal my feet?"

"Wha's wrong with 'em?" Scabior said, witholding himself from being very, very annoyed.

"Blisters, for one," Hermione stated, "Next to that the top of my toenail has let loose, my foot soles is covered in cuts, blisters, wounds and bruises and next to that, they're plain tired."

Scabior raised his eyebrows and took out his wand with a smug look on his face and kneeled beside Hermione, "Take off your bloody socks..."

Hermione took off her socks and let Scabior use the , "Episkey" spell as many times as Scabior thought necessary.

"Ya good now?" Scabior said, now showing his irritation.

"I'm fine, thank you," Hermione said, slightly happy with the way her feet felt, "Don't you have any blisters?"

"Nah," he answered, "I've got great boots."

Hermione put on her socks and shoes again and wiggled around, "Be'er?" she heard Scabior say sarcastically.

"Yes, much better. Thanks for asking."

Scabior started walking again before Hermione had picked up her bag and heard Scabior yell:"Well come on! We haven't got all day!"

* * *

"Where did you leave my wand?"

"Your wand?"

"Yes," Hermione said, "my wand."

"I've got it on me."

"Can I have it?"

"Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"Can you leave it somewhere?"

"Do you think you're getting out of there?"

Hermione stopped and stared at Scabior, "Well," she said carefully, making sure she wasn't saying the wrong thing, "there _obviously_ is a chance that _I'm_ right and that _Harry_ wins instead of he-who-musn't-be-named and, well if I make it out of there _alive,_ the thought of having my wand would be nice."

Scabior took a deep breath and licked his lips, "You actually want your wand that badly?"

"I'm... attached to it."

"Fine," Scabior said, "there's a house near a lake about six miles south from Bristol. There are more houses now, o' course, but you need to find the one with a rubbish scaffold and a huge tree. I'll bury the bloody thing by the tree. Happy?"

"Yes, very," Hermione said with a kind smile before it turned grim by the huge mansion appearing ahead of her.

Hermione looked over at Scabior who was somehow relieved they had finally reached the house: "You still haven't changed your mind about letting me go?"

"I'm sorry, luv', " Scabior grunted, "I simply can't."

"Do you think they'll kill me right away?"

"No," Scabior said, "they'll want you for information, I'm afraid."

"Could you, maybe, cover for me?" Hermione asked him, "Tell them I don't know anything?"

Scabior looked over at the younger girl standing next to him. He had been imprisoned and tortured, he knew what Bellatrix LeStrange was like. How bad could it be?

"I guess I can do tha'."

"I... appreciate that, Scabior."

"The least I can do for a pretty girl," Scabior said with a grim smile, "are you ready, luv'?"

"Well," she answered, "not really, but I'm not sure I'll ever be."

"Just say, yes, luv'."

"Okay," Hermione mumbled, "Yes, I'm ready."

Scabior took hold of the robe tying Hermione's hands together and walked the last yards towards the big gates introducing the pair to the Malfoy Mansion. A few raindrops fell down on Scabior and Hermione from the sky before Scabior banged on the Mansion's gate.

The face of Bellatrix LeStrange appeared. Her eyes were first fixated on Scabior, but soon drifted off to the girl he was holding.

"Is that...?"

"Potter's mudblood," Scabior filled in, "interested?"

The Deatheater opened the gate to Scabior and walked ahead of them towards the house. The raindrops became heavier and were soon wettening the clothes of the snatcher and prisoner, while Bellatrix had huppled towards the door where she greeted them with a disturbing smile. "Feels like Christmas, doesn't it, Scabior?"

"Sure, Bellatrix."

The smile on the face of Bellatrix turned grim after his remark, but she opened the door for them anyways, "So you've got the Granger girl!"

"So it seems," Scabior grunted.

"You know what I've heard, Scabior?" Bellatrix sang as she danced towards the huge doors leading to the Malfoy's living room, "I've heard you kept little miss mudblood from us! That you have been keeping her _ALL FOR YOURSELF!"_

"Who told you that, if I may ask?" Scabior said, remaining calm.

"Does it matter?"

"I run the snatchers, Bellatrix," Scabior said, "It ma'ers."

"It was that twat," Bellatrix said before she placed herself on a sofa, ignoring the tiring looking Malfoy's, "Snatcher captain? I don't know! I don't _care_! You know what I do care about, huh _sexy_? That girl you have there."

"You can have 'er," Scabior said, "I want my promised 1000 galleons plus the name of the snatcher tha' thinks I've been keepin' 'er for meself."

"Fine. Draco? Come over here!" Bellatrix exclaimed before she stood up again. The youngest Malfoy crossed the room and stopped a yard away from Bellatrix, "Don't be shy boy! I just want to make sure this is the one."

"It's her," Draco said, "no doubt."

"Good," Bellatrix said with a smile, "Do you remember the name of the snatcher captain that came yesterday morning?"

Draco took a deep breath and put his hands in his pockets, "Something ending on a 'y', 'otty' something..."

"Tha's all I need ta know," Scabior said with a nasty grin, "Hand me the money and she's yours."

"You've been keeping her from me for more than a week!" Bellatrix suddenly said, "Why did you keep that filthy mudblood from me?"

Scabior licked his lips and pulled Hermione against him, "I've taken a liking to 'er."

"Aaaaaahhhh! I see!" Bellatrix chuckled without taking her eyes off the man, " _Filthy_ man! Draco, bring him his money, dear."

Draco walked towards a huge, vintage box filled with golden, silver and bronzen coins. Draco grabbed a huge bag containing one thousend golden coins and put a shrinking spell on it, making it the size of a tea bag.

He walked over towards Scabior, who was still holding tightly onto Hermione and took the small bag containing big money from Draco Malfoy.

"Thanks," Scabior said to him, "Bellatrix, what are ya gonna do with 'er?"

"None of your concern!" Bellatrix laughed, "She's mine now! I paid you."

"Just... I've tried getting information out o' 'er," Scabior told the mad deatheater, "she doesn't know anything. I have tried literally everythin'. Not even the Cruciatus curse worked, so it seems as if she doesn't know where those Potter and Weasley boys are."

"I'll decide for myself, thank you," she said before she stuck out her hand, waiting for Scabior to hand the chains over.

Hermione felt shivers go down her spine as the two followers of Voldemort were discussing the way her future would go according to how much information she had. She really didn't know where the two boys were, except that they were with Sirius, so they had to be either at the Grimmauld place or the Burrow. She couldn't imagine they were anywhere else.

And boy did Hermione have information. The horcruxes, Sirius Black surviving, where they had been, who had joined the Order and what the plans of the trio were! She couldn't break beneath Bellatrix's force. She'd ruin it all.

"Stay strong, luv'," Scabior whispered before he handed the chains to Bellatrix.

Scabior licked his lips out of frustration and said: "Don't be too harsh on 'er, Bellatrix. She's just a girl."

The woman pulled Hermione towards her and ran her long fingernail along Hermione's cheek, "You _have_ taken a liking to her, haven't you? Such a gentleman... But a bit of a bloodtraitor, aren't you?"

"You know I ain't a pure-blood, Bellatrix," Scabior scoffed, "There isn't any blood to be a traitor to."

"I didn't know you weren't a pure-blood, dear Scabior... that's too bad, you would've made a wonderful husband to some pure-blood child," Bellatrix said with a sigh, "Such lovely eyes... what a shame!"

"Yes, terrible my father was a mud-blood," he said, trying to seem interested in the conversation, "Horrible man."

"You killed him, yes?" Bellatrix said with a wide grin.

"I'd rather not talk about tha'," Scabior told her, dead serious.

"Oh it was all over Azkaban!" Bellatrix sissed in Hermione's ear, "The fifth-year Hogwarts student that killed his own daddy!"

"She doesn't need to know tha', Bellatrix," Scabior said rather aggitated, "she doesn't know the whole story."

"What does it matter to you? Scabior?" Bellatrix started playing with strands of Hermione's hair, making her resent the death-eater more and more, "she'll be dead soon, doesn't matter anymore!"

Scabior clenched his jaw and put his hands in his pockets, "I just brought you the catch of the day, dear Mrs Lestrange. You should be thankful, this isn't what I call thankful."

"What do you want me to do? Blow you off?" Bellatrix laughed, "Woooooormtaaaiilll? Bring miss lovely to the dungeons, will you?"

The chubby traitor called Peter Pettigrew walked into the livingroom and snatched the chains out of Bellatrix' hands, "Yes, mistress."

"Good Wormy!" She said with a pat on his head, "Now Scabior? You've got your money and your name! I've got your girl," Hermione heard Bellatrix screech from behind her, "No use for you here... unless?"

"Rats gnawing at my feet sound more attractive," Scabior scoffed before he walked out without looking back at the girl being dragged to the dungeons.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"Okay... so... what _do_ we know?"

"We know where she is, that's what we bloody know. At least it's a start."

"I know it's a start, but we have nothing of a plan."

"Bloody hell..."

The living room of Grimmaulds Place was filled with members of the Order. Harry and Ron were sitting on the sofa, discussing the operation of getting Hermione out, Sirius Black was standing in front of the window, looking outside at the muggle world, Mr Weasley was fidgeting with his chin, Mrs Weasley was knitting out of frustration and Remus Lupin was leaning against a table, listening to the two teenage boys trying to figure something out and Tonks was staring at the coffee table in distress.

"Sirius, could you reach her again?" Ron asked the man who had been silent for hours.

"I could try," he answered, "but I don't think I'll be succesful. Apparently she has to be asleep for me to reach her and something is telling me she isn't sleeping right now."

"Can't you teach her to communicate with you while she's awake?" Harry asked his godfather, who still hadn't turned around.

"I can try," Sirius said with a grunt, "but she's tired, Harry. I'm not sure she'll manage."

Sirius turned around and walked over to his Marauder friend and looked at him, "Moony, please tell me you have some sort of an idea."

"I'm blank," Remus answered his friend, "I know, it's terrible."

Sirius clenched his jaw and said: "It isn't your fault, Remus. Let's just start here: Has anyone ever been inside the Malfoy Mansion?"

The whole room was filled with silence until Mr Weasley stopped fidgeting and looked up at the black haired man, "I have been. Once."

"OH! That's great, Arthur! Spill it out!" Sirius exclaimed.

"It was some sort of office party about ten years ago, if I remember correctly," Arthur explained, "I didn't want to go at first, but everyone was going, so I thought why not. It's a huge house, absolutely gigantic. It's mad that only three people live inside it. Tons could live in there."

"Probably why they use it as the centre of you-know-who's gang," Remus filled in, "What else do you remember?"

"Oh well... It's all very vague, but there is this huge staircase in the hall with two big doors on each side of it," Mr Weasley explained while he drew on the back of a letter, "on the left side is the living room or you can call it the parlor and I have no idea what's upstairs, I think bedrooms and bathrooms. There's at least one bathroom up behind the staircases that was open for public. There were two other small toilets, I think attached to bedrooms, but that doesn't really matter right now. I think the kitchen was in some sort of basement and so were the dungeons. I remember people making jokes with Lucius about that their house still had dungeons. I don't know where, though."

"There's a good possibility they're keeping her in those dungeons," Harry stated, "I think that's more likely than them giving Hermione a nice and warm bed with room service."

"You really can't remember where those dungeons were?" Sirius asked Mr Weasley.

"Well... no," he said with a frown, "I do remember stairs going down near the parlor, but that also could've been the kitchen or where they keep their wine. I really wouldn't know."

"At least it's something," Ron mumbled.

"It _is_ something, Ron," Remus said with a small smile, "it's a start. How will we get in though?"

Again the whole room was silent.

"Apperation?" Harry suggested.

"We could try," Sirius said, "it's tricky, though. You don't know the exact location you're apparating to, because you've never been there. Only Arthur would be able to do it and even so, his memory of the house isn't that good anymore. I personally dislike the thought of having Arthur get into that house by himself."

"So do we storm the place?" Ron asked with big eyes.

"Sneaking in," Remus said, "sounds more attractive to me."

"Black and me, we're pure-bloods or whatever," Tonks suddenly said, "Personally? I've been to the place now I think about it and Sirius must have at some point. If you focus really hard and are able to sketch a good picture in your head you're able to apparate. Still, bit dangerous, but me, Sirius and Arthur could go in."

"No way," Remus said, "Sirius is not going into a house full of deatheaters. They think he's dead, honey, we can't risk it."

"Moony, you're too sweet," Sirius said with a wink, "but I can fight."

"I know you can fight, dear Padfoot," Remus said with a smile, "but fighting and suicide is something entirely else. Next to that, Nymphadora: you are pregnant. No way you're putting the life of the both of you at risk."

"Fine," Tonks grunted, "what else do you have in mind?"

Remus sighed and looked at Sirius, "Well, I have one last thing in mind."

"And what's that?" Sirius laughed.

"Harry, Ron, Tonks, could you please leave the room?" Remus asked with a kind smile.

Harry and Ron looked at each other and shrugged. They stood up, walked out the door and stopped to wait for Tonks to follow them.

"I am in no way leaving this room," Tonks said with a scoff, "I'm not a child, Remus."

"I know you're not a child, sweetheart," Remus said while he walked towards his wife, "but I need you to leave, please."

"But why do they get to stay," Tonks said while she pointed at Mr and Mrs Weasley, "it's not like you have give them weird nicknames and have inside jokes with _them._ "

"It's... complicated," Remus said, "I'll explain it to you, once the time is right. Now please, love, we are running out of time."

Tonks scoffed another time and walked out the door and shut it with a loud *bang*. Remus smooched his lips and sat down where Tonks first sat.

"Sirius?"

"Yes."

"Sit down please."

"It feels like I'm being grounded," Sirius chuckled, "what is it, Moony?"

"We have to ask Severus Snape," Remus said and before Sirius started protesting he raised his hand, "Albus Dumbledore was firstly the only one that knew Severus was actually on our side, but as we all know he told Molly, Arthur and me. I told you, Sirius, because I trust you with my life and now I'm happy I did, because we need him."

"We don't need Snivellus," Sirius snickered, "we can go without him."

"Sirius, be realistic," Arthur said, "I only have a vague memory. Severus is way more often in that house. He'll be able to help us."

"That would blow his cover," Sirius said, "once you-know-bloody-who finds out we stole Hermione by knowing the house he knows there's a mole."

"The Malfoys and Bellatrix would never tell him," Remus said, "he'd kill them all."

"Then still, the Malfoys and Bellatrix would know there's a mole," Sirius laughed, "either way you're screwed."

"Nope," Remus said with a litte smile, "because they could never act on it without you-know-who knowing about their screw up. Plus Severus is currently doing a hell of a lot for the deatheaters, so he wouldn't be suspected. At least not right away."

"I still think there is a better option out there," Sirius stated.

"Sirius, honey," Molly said, "it is Hermione we're talking about here. Not some bimbo, we're talking about Hermione. The girl that saved your life and is saving all of our lives ongoingly. She is the reason I don't have a dead son and you don't have a dead godson. We would be lost without that girl!"

Suddenly the always babbling Sirius was quiet and clenched his jaw, "Fine," he said, "what's the plan?"

* * *

"Auch!" Hermione screeched after Peter threw her down on the wet floor of the Malfoy's dungeons, "You could've just let me stand! Bastard."

Hermione crawled up and moved towards the a pillar further away from the entrance and sat down. Her clothes were already filthy. It wouldn't matter anymore.

"I found a bag in the foyer," a screeching voice coming from the top of the staircase said, "I'm guessing it's yours?"

She stood up and walked towards the entrance of the dungeons again where Peter was standing with her bag, "Scabior said there was nothing dangerous in it before he left. Is that right?"

"Yes," Hermione said, "that's right."

"Well," the almost unrecognisable man said, "Scabior threatened me that he would murder me if I didn't give it to you."

"So give it to me then," she said.

Peter opened the door and threw in the bag. He threw Hermione an aggitated look and walked upstairs again, "I reckon Bellatrix will be very eager..."

Hermione took her bag and walked back to where she first sat. Where could she hide the bag? Suddenly she heard movement, a thinned out girl appeared and smiled.

"It's you, Hermione," the girl said, "it's you..."

The focus that first lay on the bag disappeared and turned towards the filthy girl, "Luna!"

She ran towards her and wrapped her arms around the girl she mostly found very annoying and smiled a little. Luna was okay, she was there with her. She wasn't alone anymore. It felt wonderful to feel a friend in her arms again. She knew it had only been ten days, she had been longer without her friends, but still those ten days felt like an eternity.

"What happened?" Luna asked in her floaty voice, "Why are you here?"

"Snatchers caught me," she explained, "I was first held prisoner at the snatcher's camp, but was taken to the mansion two days ago. Apparently I'm of value."

"Well of course you are of value!" Luna chuckled, "You're silly."

Luna walked towards Hermione's bag and sat down next to it, "I see you've got some stuff," she said, "that's nice."

"Yes, it is," she answered, "do you know a place where I could hide it?"

"Well, yes, of course," Luna said with a big smile, "I've been here for ages. I know the place like I know the inside of my pocket. We're not alone, by the way. Mr Ollivander is here as well and a grumpy goblin called Griphook, but Mr Ollivander is a bit tired, so he doesn't talk much and Griphook doesn't like it when I talk to him, so if you forget the situation we're in, I'm happy you're here."

"Thank you, Luna," Hermione said to the girl before she picked up her bag, "I'm glad you're here too. Show me the way."

* * *

"Fucking Bellatrix," Scabior mumbled to himself as he walked towards the gate, "bloody fucking didn't get to say goodbye. Bloody fuckin' bitch. I'm the only fucking snatcher with the Dark Mark... should get me some respect... but no! No no."

He left the property and turned around, "I'm coming back for you, my luv'."

* * *

"Ooh, I just love being back at Hogwarts!" Sirius exclaimed in a whisper as they walked through another secret passage, "Just like the good ol' days, eh Moony?"

"Be quiet."

"Come on now, Remus," Sirius said with a light chuckle, "it's not the best circumstances, I admit, but it somehow feels good to be back."

"That's true," the man admitted, "it does feel good."

Once the two were in the headmaster's tower, they used the password most likely to be it: "Lily" and climbed up the stairs towards Severus' office. The door was unlocked, so they were able to bounce into the office without any trouble.

"Well that was easy," Sirius said with a grin, "Snivellus should really secure the place better."

Remus rolled his eyes and tapped against wood, "If you won't do it, I will."

"Oh come on, now! You still have those little quirks?" Sirius laughed.

"Holy Merlin, Sirius. Keep. Your. Voice. Down," Remus said with a shake of his head, "And yes, I still have those little quirks."

Sirius looked at the books standing in Snape's bookcases and frowned, "Snivellus hasn't changed a bit. Still a complete dork."

"What in heaven's name do you two think you're doing here?" a cold voice said from behind them after they heard the door close.

"Snivellus!" Sirius said with a broad smile, "That I would have the pleasure to see you again."

"You're supposed to be dead," Severus said before he walked towards his desk and sat down.

"One doesn't simply _kill_ Sirius Black, Snivellus," Sirius said with a big grin, "I can even cheat _death_."

"How charming," Severus said sarcastically, "Lupin, who saved him?"

"Hermione Granger."

"I could've guessed."

Sirius looked at his friend with a look of betrayal before sitting down in one of the chairs in front of Snape's desk. He crossed his legs and folded his hands perfectly on his lap and smiled kindly at the man sitting across from him and waited until his friend sat down next to him.

"Well," Remus started, "we are obviously not risking our lives to come and say 'hello'."

"Obviously," Severus said, dreading the word.

"So," Remus continued, "what we are here for is your help."

Snape raised an eyebrow and couldn't help but show a little arrogant smile and say: "With what, exactly?"

"Well... As we all know, you're the _headmaster_ now and Remus and I were having this fantasy in which... yowch!"

"Apologies for Sirius, Severus," Remus said, "From time to time he finds it hard to stick to his priorities."

Severus smooched his lips and gave a nod towards Remus, "The thing is," Remus said, "that Hermione Granger is taken prisoner inside the Malfoy Mansion and we have to get her out. We all have no idea what the house looks like and honestly... we're blank on ideas on how to get in. You know the house and we thought you might know a solution for our situation."

"And why, in _Merlin's name_ , would I risk my own _life_ for the life of an _insufferable_ know-it-all?"

"Because you'd do anything," Sirius said with an arrogant grin beaming at the newest headmaster, "to concur my heart.

"Oh yes, Black," Snape answered him, "there hasn't been a day that has gone by without me loving everything you do. Those musky eyes, dramatic hair and your arrogant smirk are what make my life worthy of living for. Now you finally know..."

"Damn, Snivellus," Sirius said with a grin before leaning forward, "Watch out for the fire-alarm, 'cause I think you made my heart catch fire."

"No worries, Black," the man in black said, "I'm the headmaster now, I'll keep the alarms down for you, I know how it startles dogs... Anyhow, I do know the house, what I also know is that they keep their prisoners in the dungeons. A tad frustrating is that getting into those dungeons is a task no wizard can do unless with a key. It's protected against apparation, only house elves can apparate in and out and I happen to know a house elf that can help you with just that."

"Brilliant," Remus said with a huge smile, "Severus, you've come to our rescue, you can't believe how grateful we are."

Remus looked over at Sirius, who looked back at him, who licked his lips and said, "Oh, yes, very grateful. I love you to the moon and back."

"I'll get you the elf," Severus said, ignoring Sirius' sarcasm, "but you have to know that you can't just come in my office like this again. Next time it could mean your actual death."

"If I come in here again," Sirius said with an arrogant little grin, "will you punish me for it?"

"If my hand touching your bum is what you desire, who am I to take that pleasure away from you?" Severus stared at Sirius threatingly and turned to Remus again, "Grimmauld place, I presume?"

"Yes, Grimmauld Place it is," Remus said while he extended his hand for Snape to shake.

"Keep your little friend in line, Lupin," Severus said dead serious, "he can be rather annoying."

"Oh Snivellus, that's all I ever wanted to hear," Sirius said before he extended his hand, "I just wanted to say... thanks."

Severus took his hand and gave him a nod before the two friends left the headmaster's office and walked down the stairs again, "Well, that was easy."

"Merlin's beard..."


	14. Chapter 13

**WARNING! This chapter contains either sexual content or violence. Cursing will not be marked.**

 *** * * MARKS the beginning and end of: sexual content**

 **# # # MARKS the beginning and end of: violence**

 **Chapter 13**

"Harry Potter!" a little creature screeched before he apparated into the living room of Grimmauld Place.

"Dobby!" Harry screamed out before he jumped off the couch, realising he wasn't wearing a shirt, "Merlin, what are _you_ doing here?"

"There real question there is, sir, is why you aren't wearing a shirt," Dobby said with his high pinched voice before he sat down at the coffeetable and started playing with his socks, "Clothes are very nice, you know, Harry Potter. Dobby knows Harry Potter should be wearing clothes anytime he can."

"I was just..."

"Clothes are a privilege, Harry Potter!"

"Fine, yes, clothes are a privilege," Harry said before he walked towards the chair on which he had hung his shirt, "it was just so that everyone was out except for me and Ron and well it's been the first time since a long time that it happened to be the two of us so... we took advantage of it."

Harry put on his button down shirt and sat down on the couch again, "And why are you _here,_ Dobby?"

"Dobby has been summoned by the kind sir Lupin!" Dobby screeched, "Headmaster Snape told Dobby that Mr Lupin wanted a little favour..."

Dobby looked down at his hands and looked back at Harry with big eyes, "Oh no... Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby! Dobby has been bad! Bad! Bad! Bad!" He stood up and slammed his head against the coffee table several times until Harry lifted him up by his pillowcase, leaving Dobby dangling.

"Dobby, what are you talking about?" Harry said with a confused look on his face.

The sound of a young man coming down the staircase startled them both, but when they saw a shirtless Ron was standing in the hallway, they both relaxed.

"What is bloody going on in here?" Ron exclaimed, "I'm just laying on my bed... And suddenly I hear this screeching voice and... oh hey! Dobby."

"Dobby is here to do Mr Lupin a favour," Dobby said quietly, "That's why Dobby is at Grimmauld place, sir."

"Dobby also said Snape send Dobby," Harry said to Ron, "and put on your shirt, our hours of freedom are most likely done."

"Bloody hell..." Ron said, "And I don't even want to think about that slick filthy traitor anymore..."

"Ron, put on a shirt. You're making Dobby feel uncomfortable."

"Not uncomfortable, Harry Potter," the house-elf corrected him, "just... Dobby thought you should know that clothes are a..."

"Dobby, we know," Harry interrupted before he put the elf down again, "it's fine, really."

The house elf unwrinkled his pillow-case and sat down at the coffee-table again, "So where has the kind professor _gone_?"

"I have no idea where he's gone," Harry answered, now in the room again with just Dobby, "he's left off on some sort of secret mission or something. Me and Ron are the only ones here."

"Who is staying here then?" Dobby asked while looking around.

"Who's staying at Grimmauld place?"

"Yes, Harry Potter."

"Remus, Mr and Mrs Weasley, me, Ron and Remus' fiancee: Tonks," Harry answered, "and someone who I'm not sure I should say the name of."

"Harry!" A voice sang from behind him, "My favourite godson, I see the house-elf has arrived."

Harry looked behind him and saw Sirius standing agains the doorway, "Yes, he has arrived."

He looked at Dobby and raised his eyebrows, fumbled with his hands and mumbled, "I suppose _someone_ isn't very concerned about keeping himself a secret..."

"I heard that, sassy."

Remus walked into the room, and sat down next to Harry, "Good evening, Harry. I see Dobby is the house-elf that will help us get your friend back."

"Why was Snape involved, Remus?" Harry asked the old friend of his father's.

"Snape?" Remus said with big eyes, "Snape's a deatheater, why _would_ he be involved?"

"Dobby has been living on the street these past weeks!" Dobby suddenly said, "Dobby shouldn't be speaking to headmaster Snape anymore, if Dobby would keep working there Dobby wouldn't be a free elf anymore! Harry Potter knows how much Dobby likes freedom."

"Is that true, Sirius?" Harry asked the man by the doorway without looking at him.

"Hey! I'm just Moony's humble servant," Sirius said with a smirk Harry couldn't see.

"Bloody hell!" Ron said as he walked into the room containing the three men and elf, "I was going to go get a shirt, but I had literally no good one's left. Guess I'm stuck to my Christmas sweater for today... Bloody itchy, it is."

Sirius stroke the dark hairs on his moustache with a sly smile and watched Ron with a little bit of amusement as the boy looked at the three staring creatures not knowing why they were all smiling at him, "What?"

* * *

 **# # #** "Tell! Me!" the crazed woman screamed at the girl crumbling away at the floor, trying to fight the stabbing sensation, "WHERE ARE THEY, MUDBLOOD? Where are your LITTLE FRIENDS?"

Hermione felt as if no more tears could stream down her eyes as she took every hit of stabs pulsing through her body. She had to fight it... sometimes she managed to ease the pain a little bit, but she couldn't lift the Cruciatus entirely. Her forehead had never been in such an intense frown before as she felt the muscles pull with every time she screeched out of pain. How longer would she have to go through hell? Couldn't her friends hurry up for a change?

Bellatrix lifted the torture curse and sat down next to Hermione, "You've got to tell me eventually, little _mudblood_ of mine... You're not as strongwilled as you're trying to look, sweetheart. Just a little girl to girl talk..."

The deatheater took out a knife from her belt and put it against Hermione's wrist, who was afraid of what would come next. She looked up at Bellatrix, who had moved herself onto her torso and looked at the woman with black curls falling into her maddened eyes and a small drool dripping from her mouth, "You and me both know you aren't really as strongwilled as you make everyone believe. Everyone knows you're weak, if you let yourself get... _raped!_ "

Hermione's breathing fastened, but she wouldn't let Bellatrix get to her. She couldn't. She had to stay strong, even if that meant that Bellatrix thought she knew Hermione had been raped numerous times by the most powerful snatcher.

Maybe it would be best if she thought that... that she thought she hated Scabior. That way she couldn't use the feelings she somehow felt for him against her.

"Do you want that to happen again... mudblood?" she whispered in Hermione's ear, "Should I summon him for you?"

Hermione played along and let out a whimper, "You wouldn't like that now would you?" The cold knife was pressed against the surface of Hermione's skin, which contrasted with the damp breathing she felt, coming from Bellatrix's mouth, "So what about... you, " an M, "tell me, "a U, "where, " a D, "they, " a B, "are!" an L.

With every letter Bellatrix carved into her skin Hermione whimpered and struggled. The blunt knife struggled sliding easily through her flesh, making her feel the tissue being torn apart. "Stoooooppp!" she whimpered, "Please! STOP!"

"You have something to say, love?" Bellatrix said while she stopped carving the second O in her arm, "Do you have something to say to auntie Bellatrix?"

"Please stop..." she whispered, "Please..."

"My, oh, _my_!" Bellatrix screeched, "You're even weaker than I thought in the first place!"

Bellatrix stood up and played with the knife she was still holding in her hand, "What will it be little vermin? Will I finish my carving work? Will I go back to the Cruciatus curse? Will I stab you with my knife, but heal you again on the edge of fainting? Or... Scabior?"

 _Scabior_ , she immediately thought, but she didn't show her preference. Another tear escaped her eye as she looked at the _MUDBLOO_ carved on her arm. She closed her eyes and figured how her life would be if she wasn't muggle-born. She wouldn't be Bellatrix's favourite torture-doll, for one.

A few seconds ticked by until Bellatrix became impatient again, "Well?!"

Hermione kept her eyes closed for a few more seconds, but opened them again after all, disappointed by what she saw. _Maybe it's just a bad dream_ , she thought for just a second, but the moment she became aware of her burning arm and her surroundings again she feared that it was in fact reality.

 _Not the Cruciatus curse_ , spooked through her mind, _not again..._

"Don't worry, filthy blood," Bellatrix said with a malodious sound, "I'm not done with my masterpiece quite yet." **# # #**

* * *

"So, Dobby, do you understand?" Remus asked the elf.

"Yes, sir Black, Dobby understands just fine," Dobby said with a smile, "Dobby will not let you down, sir."

"Thatta Dobby!" Sirius said before he slammed Dobby on the back, "Tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir," Dobby said, "tomorrow morning."

* * *

"Fenrir, please..." Scabior grunted before he dragged the werewolf with him again, "You've got to stop doing tha'!"

"It was _one_ lick," the nasty werewolf grunted, "Just _one._ "

Scabior released the huge half-breed and sighed, "I've explained to you about how it makes everyone uncomfortable. Not just the _girl,_ but _me_ and _the boys_ also. So behave, will ya?"

The werewolf shrugged and walked back to the group, "Fine."

Scabior rolled his eyes and took out his infamous namelist again to stripe off some more refugee names. He licked his lips, listened to his new batch of prisoners tell their names and searched them up, but he wouldn't feel the same rush he normally felt.

All he wanted to do was go back to his tent to find the breathtaking girl sitting on his bed reading his books. He didn't want a full stomach if it meant that she wasn't there to robb him of that satisfaction. He didn't want to have all of the blanket at night anymore. He didn't want all the space in his bed anymore and he didn't want to lose that lovely lavender smell.

He grabbed Hermione's scarf that was still wrapped around his neck and took a sniff. It was still there, _thank God_ , he knew he'd lose it if he even lost her scent.

"Boss are you al'ight?" one of Scabior's snatchers asked.

"I'm fine," Scabior answered, without looking away from the scarf he still held in his hand, "Just fine... Let's go, gents! We haven't gotten all day. Take the lot to the Ministry!"

 _Firewhiskey after,_ the snatcher thought as he started his walk towards the snatcher camp for the floo system.

* * *

The evening had just started for the huge group of snatchers in the camp when Scabior walked in and slammed his fist on the bar. All the noise the men and women made faded and all the eyes were focussed on Scabior sitting down at the bar. They hadn't seen their Head of Snatchers for more than a week and seeing him there, looking so miserable wasn't good for anyone in the camp.

"Wha' ya all lookin' at?" Scabior grunted before he turned his body around and took a glorious swig of the firewhiskey he'd just gotten, "Well... get back to it. I'm not the bloody queen!"

The entire room laughed and continued their conversations, games of poker and wizarding chess and left their Head of Snatchers alone. Scabior looked down at the glass of whiskey in front of him and moved his wrist. The movement let the whiskey form little waves that clashed agains the walls of his glass.

He took another swig and put the glass down again. He couldn't look at that whiskey any longer. It reminded him of her eyes.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, once again. I really hoped you enjoyed the chapter or at least thought it made some sense! Please let me know your precious thoughts in the comments down below.**

 **Love you, cheers!**


	15. Chapter 14

**WARNING! This chapter contains either sexual content or violence. Cursing will not be marked. I will keep marking this for any readers that may find themselves feeling uncomfortable with reading these type of scenes.**

 *** * * MARKS the beginning and end of: sexual content**

 **# # #** **MARKS the beginning and end of: violence**

 **Hello, there! So last chapter was a tad heavy, bit dark, but I most certainly hope you can appreciate it! Hahah**

 **Anyhow I updated a lot last weekend, but this week has been quite busy, so that's why this chapter is a bit later than the last few. I'm going to figure out a way to update frequently and regulary so I'm a bit less unpredictable!**

 **Either way, here's another chapter. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 14**

*Bang*

The door keeping the four prisoners from the rest of the mansion was shut behind him. He took a few steps into the dark dungeons and looked around, searching for Lestrange's newest toy.

"Lovellyyyyyy?" he exclaimed before he alsmost fell, but grapped onto a pillar, "Your... Scabior is here!"

Hermione opened her eyes and looked up. Her brain had adjusted to the lack of light in the room, so she could look around and see her fellow prisoners still sleeping. She rubbed her eyes and stood up. Her whole body was aching from laying on the hard floor and the tension she felt from being in the Manor. She took a deep breath and walked towards the snatcher calling for her.

"Can't you just leave?" Hermione whispered madly after she had crossed her arms so Scabior couldn't see what Bellatrix had done to it.

"I'm 'ere," Scabior said with a chuckle, "for you."

"I don't need you here," Hermione answered the drunk man, " _and_ I don't want you here."

Scabior raised his eyebrows at the girl and grinned, "I couldn't help but miss ya, luv'."

Hermione rolled her eyes, which Scabior probably didn't see and ignored his comment, "Oh come on, sweetheart! Ya still mad about tha'? "

" _Yes_ , Scabior," Hermione said while shaking her head that was still aching from the screeching voice of Bellatrix Lestrange echoing through her skull , "that... woman _tortured_ me and you _don't_ think I'm mad at you for handing me over like that?"

"Oh come on, beau'iful," Scabiors said before he took a drunken step towards Hermione and put his hand on her cheek, "I know you'd like a good fuck!"

"I _really_ wouldn't, Scabior," Hermione said, keeping herself from breaking down, "I'm really tired and I'm really scared and honestly? I just want you to leave."

"The smell of you on my scarf is fading," Scabior said.

"Well... too bad!" Hermione responded, "I'm going to bed now and I do not want you following me."

"There aren't any beds in 'ere," Scabior said with a chuckle, completely oblivious to how Hermione felt, "but I'll have you against the wall."

"Scabior, would you just leave?" Hermione cried out, "I _really_ want you to leave."

The snatcher rubbed his face in his hands and scratched his head before he took a step towards Hermione, "Come on, sweetheart."

Hermione's eyes began to water before she turned around to walk back to Luna and the other two when Scabior grabbed her arm and spun her around. All the energy had been drained from her body and she knew that if Scabior wanted to, he could just take her.

She looked up into his blue, greyish eyes that had turned black by the lack of light and let a tear carve it's way through a thin layer of dirt on her face. Scabior loosened his grip on her arm when he realised it was leaking a red fluid and took the wretched girl in his arms. Hermione lay her head on his chest and sniffed in the familiar sense she grew to know over the past days. His arms were wrapped around her waist and his head lay against hers.

"I never meant for her to hurt ya," Scabior mumbled, "I never did."

Hermione nodded and began to sob, her tears soaking Scabior's clothes. He lay his hand on her head and shushed her until her body stopped shaking, "It's al'ight now. I'm here and I'm not leaving ya."

After he held her for another few minutes he released her and looked into her eyes. Scabior still felt the alcohol rush through his veins, clouding his vision and judgement and weakening his ability to walk straight. He took hold of the side of Hermione's face and leaned in for the kiss he had been longing for all along.

 *** * *** Although she didn't kiss him back right away, she did after he leaned in for the second time. Hermione let out a small moan as Scabior lay his warm hand on her waist and bumped her against the nearest pillar. His lips kissed hers so eagerly, but sloppier than usual. His hands were back to their normal, rough, lustful self, leaving nothing open for love.

But Hermione didn't mind, she was too weak to resist and too tired to care about the sudden disappearing gentleness he once had during their special moments. _It must be the alcohol_ , she assured herself.

The stinging taste of firewhiskey lingered inside her mouth after a few too many kisses. Scabior was ruthless, he didn't care for the three other people that were sleeping in the dungeons, he only cared for having what he wanted, what he desired, which was to be inside Hermione again.

He loosened the buttons of Hermione's plaid shirt and moved aside her bra to swirl his tongue around her nipple. He flicked it, lay his other hand on her bum and squeezed. Hermione moaned out and grabbed Scabior by his hair.

The snatcher threw his coat on the ground, once again baring his strong, tatooed arms. He leaned in for another kiss and let the sweet lavender sensation knock away his left-over sense of reality.

He lifter Hermione up by her bum, slammed her against the pilar again, ignoring the sound of the air being pushed out of her lungs by force and let his erection move against her centre. "Fuck, sweetheart," he groaned, "Fuck..."

He started fumbling with the button of her jeans and put Hermione down again so she could take off her jeans and panties. Scabior lifted her up again, but stopped his kissing when he heard a high pitched voice say, "Hermione? Is that you?"

Hermione scraped her throat and realised the erotic position she and Scabior were in before she said, "Yes, it's Hermione, just go to bed, Luna."

She chuckled and said: "What are you doing, you silly?"

"Nothing important!" Hermione said, bluntly, "You just go back to sleep, I'll be right there."

"Well... alright then," Luna said, "look out for the nargles, though. I heard they like dungeons."

"Will do!"

"Okay then... Goodnight!"

"Goodnight, Luna," Hermione said before she let out a sigh.

Scabior looked at Hermione with several layers of frustration and leaned in to whisper in her ear, "My hard-on has gone."

Hermione reached down and lay her hand on his crotch, she squeezed gently and pulled in Scabior for another kiss. She felt his shaft harden up against her hand, she grinned behind a kiss and let Scabior loosen his belt. Scabior picked her up again and let his manhood slide threw her folds, feeling where the dampness came from.

His hands were on each side of Hermione's head after Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist and waited for Scabior to let her feel those lovely sensations again. Hermione dug her fingers of one hand in the long strands of brown hair and wrapped the other around his neck.

She felt a hot, throbbing sensation between her thighs as she kept waiting for what she had been longing for. She felt Scabior's hot, alcohol reeking breath against her neck just before he kissed her hard on her neck together with his dick sliding in her wet slith. She let out a soft sound of happiness as she felt his length open her up.

His teeth tugged into her skin slightly after he fastened his pace a bit and started muttering swearwords along with a tightening grip from Hermione.

"Ya like it how ya cover my dick with your wettness?" he groaned in his ear, "Ya like it how I can smack your lil' bum?"

"Hmmmm... yes," Hermione phanted as she felt another wave of pleasure flow through her.

Hermione's nails dug into Scabior's neck as he kept fastening his pace and kept hitting her most sensitive spots, "Oh my..." she breathed, "Oh.. my god!"

"That's i'," Scabior said, quite feeling his climax build up, "I've gotta slow down a lil', honey. Fuck... ya make me feel want to come way to fast, pet."

The girl chuckled at the compliment and took the opportunity to take a long kiss from Scabior. Their tongues intertwined as Hermione's hips moved around, asking for more. Scabior placed his hands on her hips and started thrusting harder than the slow pace he had chosen.

Hermione suddenly gasped, "Oh... fuck... dear Merlin! I have to come, can I come?" she whispered in a high pitched voice.

"Fuck, yes!" Scabior grunted before he felt the results of Hermione coming, by the sudden pool of wetness, created by her pleasure, between the folds his expansion was left in. He felt the tightening muscles grasp his dick as he kept on thrusting into her.

He couldn't keep going any longer, he had to come. He started breathing faster and mumbled: "Fuck... fuck... fuck... fuck.. Fuck!" And let his whole body be filled with a tsunami of pleasure. His whole body shook as he filled Hermione up with his white cream and phanted against her neck.

"Shit, you feel good," Scabior said, regaining his breath before he pulled out of her and buttoned up his trousers. *** * ***

He handed Hermione her jeans and panties and closed a few buttons from the shirt she was wearing while she put on her bottom clothes, "Did ye get your bag?" Scabior asked her while fumbling a button into it's hole.

"I did," Hermione answered, "but could you maybe shrink it for me?"

"But then you can't use the bag anymore," Scabior said, still not entirely clear by the firewhiskey rushing through him.

"I know," Hermione said, "but I don't want anyone to find it."

Scabior nodded and walked towards where Hermione was sleeping. Hermione followed the man she had just shagged and watched Scabior shrink the bag into the pocket-size. He handed it to her, but froze when a man mumbled, "Who's there?"

Scabior hesitated, but then said: "Nothin' to worry about, old man. Just someone passin' by..."

Hermione saw Scabior preparing to leave, but she stopped him by grabbing the coat he had just put on, "We didn't," she said with a whisper, "use any protection."

The man's jaw dropped before he looked at Hermione and shrugged, "Let me."

He took out his wand and tapped against her stomach while muttering a few words Hermione couldn't make out and felt a tingle rushing through her body.

"That'll do," he said with a sly smile before he kissed Hermione and started walking to the exit, but Hermione followed.

Scabior tabbed against the door and waited for Wormtail to come down, he looked at Hermione and said, "Don't do anythin' stupid, Hermione. I know ya have a strong will."

* * *

"Okay once more," Remus said while pacing through the kitchen at Grimmauld place 12.

"Moony," Sirius said with a sigh,"We have gone through the entire plan hundreds of times, I'm sure once more won't have any effect."

"Padfoot," Remus said when he stopped pacing, "don't be dramatic we have only walked through it four times and we _have_ to be sure everything goes right."

"Everything _will_ go right..." he mumbled while fiddling with his new wand.

"Would you just try contacting her again?" Remus said slightly aggitated with his friend, "Make yourself useful for a change."

"Pardon?" Sirius Black said as he looked up at the standing werewolf, "You don't have to snap at me, Moony. I'll try."

Sirius stood up and walked towards the wall which he put in hands against and closed his eyes, "Where's Harry, anyways?" Remus said from behind him.

"Upstairs, on the couch," Sirius answered, "and it doesn't work when you're distracting me..."

"Very well," Remus said before he walked away, "I'll leave you to it then."

"And I'm the dramatic one," Sirius mumbled beneath his breath before he started focussing on finding Hermione again.

His mind wandered and wandered until he found the dark space inside his brain in which he could contact people. He searched for a sign of light. A sparkle, a glinster a small beam, but he didn't find anything. He was alone in the complete darkness for a full hour as he felt the energy being drawn out of him until he finally saw a flicker.

 _"Hermione!" his concious screamed. He walked towards the flicker he had seen and waited. "Hermione? Are you there, Hermione?"_

He saw another flicker, but it was a weak one. His hand formed a fist as the thoughts of worry clouded his rationality. _Only two flickers_ , he thought, _something's wrong._

 _Sirius' concious started asking for Hermione's attention again. He used all of his energy letting his concious scream until he saw a bigger flicker come through. There she was... Hermione Granger._

 _Her hair was a mess of brown curls, her clothes were filthy and drenched in blood. Sirius knew he had to remain calm, he couldn't burst now. It would only scare Hermione away._

 _He took a step towards the scared witch and smiled, "There you are."_

 _"Yes," Hermione's concious said, but in a monotome voice, "I'm here."_

 _"Are you alright, Hermione?" Sirius asked her fighting to take Hermione in his arms._

 _"No, I'm not," she answered, "I'm really not. Í'm scared, Sirius."_

 _"I know, I'm sorry," he said before he clenched his jaw, "We are coming to get you, Hermione. Can you tell me where you are right now?"_

 _"I'm in the dungeons," Hermione answered, "but I'm not alone. Luna Lovegood is here as well as Ollivander and the kobold Griphook. They have been here for ages, you have to get them also."_

 _Sirius nodded with a kind smile and took another step towards Hermione, he offered his hand and took hers in his with a loving way and looked her in the eye, "It'll be over soon, Hermione. I promise you that."_

 _"How soon?"_

 _"Well," Sirius said, "we had a plan figured out, but just for you. I don't think those three will complicate much, so I'm sure it'll be very, very soon."_

 _"I'll see Harry and Ron again," Hermione said with a pained smile, "and I'll see you again."_

 _"You will," Sirius chuckled, "yes, you will."_

 _Hermione's lip trembled, but she soon recovered and looked back up at Sirius, "Thank you," she said._

 _Sirius shook his head and released Hermione's hand, "You don't have to thank me for anything," he told her, "Never."_

 _Hermione took a step closer towards Sirius and rolled up her sleeve, exposing the damage that had been done to her arm. Sirius took hold of Hermione's wrist and read the word MUDBLOOD on it with a pained look on his face. He swallowed and took a deep breath._

 _"I promise you," he said, "whoever did this will pay."_


	16. Chapter 15

**Hello! My lovely beta _lollipop25_ told me she found the scene from last chapter in which Scabior came for Hermione a bit confusing. So... I decided to give a little explanation for those who share her opinion.**

 **Obviously Scabior had been let into the dungeons by Peter Pettigrew with permission of Bellatrix Lestrange, because the deatheater thought Scabior was raping Hermione instead of... well let's call it sleeping with her.**

 **Scabior came down to the dungeons purely for sex in the first place, really pushing Hermione, who was not feeling like it, into having intercourse. Hermione tried to get away from Scabior, who was physically and mentally stronger than her at the time, but was prevented from doing so by Scabior grabbing her arm.**

 **Due to Scabior's ferm grip the wounds on Hermione's arm started bleeding again. Scabior then knew about Bellatrix really going at her and took her in his arms, because... Surprise! Surprise! Scabior appears to care for Herm a little.**

 **But, Scabior remains Scabior and still wanted what he came for in the first place: sex. So he kissed Hermione after she had calmed down a bit again. Hermione didn't go along with it until the second kiss, which made Scabior take serious control.**

 **Hermione felt lonely and saw the sex as some sort of comfort, even though she noticed the sex being loveless. You could say that the sex they were having was a bit "rape-y", but not entirey. Either way, I hope it clears up a few questionmarks for those who were having them.**

 **(I don't own any of the characters, nor storylines from J.K. Rowling)**

 **Enjoy the new chapter!**

 **Chapter 15**

Heavy steps came down the stairs leading to the dungeons. A key fumbled in the lock until it finally opened and Wormtail entered the room, "The mistress Lestrange wants to see the goblin."

Hermione looked over at Griphook who he saw was having trouble standing up. His face looked worried as he knew what he was meant to go through a few moments later on and he started moving towards the once member of the Order of the Phoenix.

She hesitated, but Hermione stood up as well after a moment and stopped Griphook from walking any further, "No," she spat at Wormtail, "You are not taking him. He's had enough."

"Step aside!" Wormtail screeched in an aggitated voice, but Hermione didn't move an inch.

The traitor took a few steps forward and threw Hermione onto the ground with a single swing of his arm before he took hold of the goblin he wanted to take in the first place. Wormtail dragged the goblin up away from the girl and shut the doors of the dungeons behind him with a loud clanging sound.

Hermione's weakened body crawled up from the floor and took a few moments before crumbling back to her friends. She fell down agains the pillar and regained her breath. How could her body have weakened _that_ much?

"I don't know what to do anymore," Hermione told the rest of the prisoners, "I'm just tired."

"Oh... that's alright, Hermione," Luna told her in a voice that was a little less cheerful than usual, "We've given up weeks ago. I don't know what Bellatrix wants Griphook for anymore, though."

Hermione nodded and looked down at her hands. The inside of her mouth had never been as dry as it was right at that moment. The small amount of food and water she and her fellow prisoners had gotten was very little, to her disappointment.

Compared to the treatment she got at the Malfoy Manor, Scabior's tent was luxury.

Hermione closed her eyes and leaned back against the pillar opposite from Luna, "Who was that man, yesterday?" the normally quiet man in the corner asked her.

She opened her eyes again and looked at the figure rotting away, "Christopher Scabior," Hermione answered, "he's an arse."

A humble laugh left Ollivander's mouth at the sound of her insult towards the man, desciding he'd take just the name and the comparison as an answer. The tired man took a deep breath and returned his eyes to their usual state: closed.

Luna was drawing in the small layer of dirt on the dungeon floor with her finger and didn't take her eye off of it. She was focused. Hermione didn't understand how Luna could focus in such an environment. She decided she had to try and get to Sirius and tell him about the complication. They could come get them any moment, she knew, but they had to save Griphook as well, in her opinion.

Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, knowing she'd see her friends soon. So she closed her eyes and tried to relax her sore muscles and calm her brain to enter the black room while being awake for a change.

Time passed while Hermione searched and searched, but wasn't able to find anything looking like the black room she'd come to know from her dreams. _What if it was just that? A dream?_ she thought while panick started rushing through her. Her eyes shot open when she heard a small pop on the other side of the room. She shot up, causing little stars to dart in front of her eyes. Her feet dragged her towards the sound and there she saw the creature that was her saviour, Dobby.

Tears filled her eyes as she squated down next to the elf, ignoring the loud noises coming from the floor above her.

"Dobby," she whispered, "I'm so glad to see you! Ollivander and Luna are in the back, you have to get them safe first."

The house elf nodded and started moving towards the direction Hermione pointed at. She followed the elf, but stopped him before his departure.

"Tell Sirius Griphook isn't in the dungeons anymore, but is being interrogated," Hermione told him, "they need to figure out a way to save him as well."

"Yes, Hermione Granger," Dobby's high pitched voice screeched, "Dobby will find a way."

The wrecked girl nodded and witnessed the three disapparate in front of her. She took a deep breath and sat down. _Just a few more moments_ , she thought, _just a few more and then it'll be over. I'll be back home._

Every muscle Hermione had was tense. Her heartbeat was banging not only against her chest, but echoed through her head as sweat was breaking out while the seconds ticked by. _What in Merlin's name is taking them so long?_

Finally she heard another pop. There she saw Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Nyphadora Tonks standing in front of her together with Dobby.

Sirius ran towards Hermione, who was still hurled back against a pillar and squatted down. "Hello again," Sirius said with a little smile, "we're going to blast you out of here."

Hermione felt a strong arm beneath her knees and another supporting her back. She lay her head against his shoulder and let a tear get away, causing Sirius to clench his jaw before looking at his friends, "Go get him," Sirius said, "just get us out of the dungeons and I'll take her to the Shell Cottage. I'll see you there with Griphook... and try killing -"

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Hermione finished with a shaking voice.

"Right..." Tonks mumbled, "Got some unfinished business with her myself," before she strode off towards the entrance of the dungeons and tried to blast the lock off, without any result.

"What the..." she started.

"Only elves like Dobby can practise magic inside the dungeons," Dobby explained before he followed Tonks and blew off the lock himself, "in case of intruders."

Tonks pushed the door of the Dungeons open and strode up the stairs, followed by Remus, Dobby and the Hermione carrying Sirius. The moment Sirius was up the stairs he disapparated off the property with Dobby and was soon standing on the beach near the Shell Cottage.

"Quick, Dobby," Sirius yelled at Dobby, standing next to them, "They have to get out as well!"

"Yes, Sirius Black, sir!" Dobby screeched before he apparated to the Malfoy Manor again.

Hermione opened her eyes and enjoyed the warm morning sunlight hitting her bare, filth covered arms and face. The salty smell of the sea and the warmth coming from Sirius' walking body made her relax just a bit, but soon she was startled by the joyful cheers coming from Shell Cottage's terrace.

Even though the sound startled her, she felt happy hearing her friends' familiar voices. She saw two boys running towards her and soon she felt Sirius putting her on the ground gently so she could be welcomed by her friends.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed before he threw his arms around her, "I'm so glad you're back. We've been worried sick!"

Hermione cracked a smile and looked at her red-haired friend before Harry took her attention with a tight hug, "My God, Hermione," he said with a shaking voice, "How I've missed you!"

The tight hug lasted for a few seconds, but the small party of four was soon interrupted by a loud pop including Remus Lupin falling to the ground, with Tonks falling a few feet away, but soon crawling towards his still body. Griphook apparated a few yards further away and moved his tired body away from the water, but above all was Dobby standing in low water with a knife penetrating his stomach.

"Harry Potter," the voice said quietly, "Harry Potter!"

Harry moved his attention from Hermione, "Dobby..." and ran towards the elf.

The chosen one dropped to his knees next to the elf and took out the knife while Sirius ran over towards his friend laying still next to Tonks while a confused Ron took Hermione in his arms again.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, "Hermione? Do you have something? In your bag? Hermione?"

The exhausted girl shook her head in silence and looked down at the glistening sand while she felt a intriguing pain go through her.

Dobby was dying... and it was all for _her_. She didn't deserve that, was what was flashing through her mind. _Nobody should sacrifise themselves for me_ , she thought in panic, _it's all my fault._

"Help me!" Harry screamed, but again the girl couldn't give a different reaction but a showing of utter powerlessness.

"Such a beautiful place..." Dobby said with a weak voice to Harry, "to be with friends... Dobby is _happy_ , to be with his friend -"

Harry lowered his head to Dobby's and heard him form his last words; "-Harry Potter..."

Soon the strong energy Dobby had always showed left his body hanging lifeless. His big, googly eyes were opened and staring at the blue sky hovering above them, but they weren't looking anymore. They were still.

Luna, who had come down the beach when she saw the scene taking place, sat down next to the devastated Harry and said quietly: "We should close his eyes... Don't you think?"

The young man gave a nod and let Luna move her hand towards Dobby's head to close the elf's lids. Sirius had walked towards his godson and put his hand on his shoulder, "It's okay to be sad," he said, "it's okay..."

"I want to bury him," Harry told Sirius, "a real grave."

"Then we'll bury him," Sirius said before he turned around again to help his friend that had been on the edge of death.

Ron draped his arm around Hermione's back and lifted her up, "We have to get you inside, 'Mione," Ron told her, "it's cold out."

Hermione nodded and threw her arm around Ron's neck, allowing him to help her towards the cottage. Hermione threw another look at the scenery and saw Sirius dragging Remus' body towards the cottage with Tonks. Harry had lifted Dobby's small body and stood next to Luna before they started walking towards the Shell Cottage together while Griphook walked after them, with his head hanging low.

Even though all of them were glad Hermione and the others were back, a nasty vibe filled the Cottage. Remus nearly dead and Dobby had passed away.

Sirius and Tonks were in Remus' room all day, covering his wounds with all types of mixtures, Harry was busy digging Dobby's grave and the rest of them were either in mourning or planning their plan of action.

"'Mione?" Ron whispered after he had opened the room Hermione had been given, "I was just checkin' up on you. Are you all right?"

Hermione, who sat still on the edge of her bed with her legs crossed didn't move. She hadn't showered, nor eaten, nor moved from that edge since she got there and she didn't feel like doing anything else except stare at the wall in front of her.

Ron closed the door behind him and sat down on the edge next to her and draped his arm around her, "It's okay, Hermione. You can talk to me..."

Hermione's head moved to look at Ron, but she didn't have enough energy to say anything. Instead another drop of moisture left her dehydrated body and fell onto her jeans that didn't show its original colour through the layers of dirt and blood.

The boy she hadn't seen in a long time pulled her closer and rested his head on hers and shushed Hermione as more tears escaped her eyes. They sat there, at the edge of the bed for a long time, until Hermione had fallen asleep and Ron had put her down with a blanket draped over her body.

"Sleep tight," he whispered, before he shut the door behind him.

* * *

"Bloody fucking hell!" Scabior screamed before he threw a vase against the wall Draco was leaning against, "Can't you fuck-ups do anythin'?"

"You better calm down, Scabior," Bellatrix said with wicked eyes, "it'll almost seem as if you had feelings for that _mudblood._ "

"Wha' will the Dark Lord think, eh?" Scabior sneered at the deatheater, "Wha' will he think o' this?"

"He won't ever know," Lucius told the snatcher, "We hadn't summoned him yet and we won't. _You_ will keep quiet about this. Nobody can know."

"My entire camp knows," Scabior told the deatheaters, "They all knew Hermione Granger was under _my_ protection and is supposed to be ' _ere_."

Bellatrix moved closer towards Scabior and grabbed his chin, "Then you will be the one to take the blame for losing her..."

Scabior let out a laugh and slammed away Bellatrix Lestrange's hand and took a step backwards, "Me? Taking blame for losing her?"

"Yes, Scabior," Bellatrix sissed, "Who else is going to do it?"

" _You,_ o' course," Scabior told her while pointing his finger at the crazed woman, " _I_ just got on common ground with the lovely Dark Lord and I'm not planning on losing that common ground. _I_ represent the snatchers and _I_ have done my job. No way in _fucking hell_ that I'm giving that up for _your_ mistake."

"He'll murder us," Lucius told him, "He'll murder my _son_."

"Well that's your fucking problem," Scabior told him before he turned around and walked towards the exit of the parlor, "but I have done a brilliant job and I'll keep it tha' way!"

Scabior moved through the hall and ignored the raging Bellatrix screaming "COME BACK HERE!". He closed the front door behind him and left the group of deatheaters to fend for themselves.

He hated that Hermione had escaped. He had told her not to do anything stupid and there she was, escaping. Somewhere he understood where the escape came from. Bellatrix had been torturning her and the conditions of the dungeon she was in wasn't splendid, but she left him behind.

Deep down he had always hoped Hermione loved him more than she'd love herself. Scabior didn't love her in that way, he didn't love her in any way, but he still expected it from her.

 _No more lil' visits,_ he realised bitterly, _better find myself a new one then._

* * *

 **Hello again! Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think about the story thus far. I really appreciate every type of comment, so if you're thinking: _What the hell happened there? She stupid?!_ Well then you can always let me know.**

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 **Cheers!**


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"How's Hermione doing?" a high pitched voice with a French accent asked, startling the youngest Weasley boy who had just walked into the living room of the Shell Cottage.

Ron turned around and looked at Fleur standing in the kitchen with her appron on next to his brother, Bill, cutting what appeared to be cucumber.

"She's asleep now," Ron answered, "couldn't get a bloody word out of her. She's probably in some sort of shock..."

"Oh that's possible," Bill told his younger brother, "I've seen it before. Sudden change of scenery after traumatic experience is very tiring."

"I'll see if I can talk to her when she wakes up," a low voice said, coming from a black haired man standing by the window facing the sea, "we just have to leave her asleep for now."

"How's Remus, Sirius?" Ron asked.

Sirius turned around and took off his jacket, leaving him in his shirt and vest, "He'll live," Sirius answered, "the wounds will leave some scars, but in a few days he'll be up and running."

"Is Tonks alright?" Fleur asked the man, understanding the way women felt when their loved ones were in danger.

"She's okay," Sirius answered, "at first we thought he might've been dying, but once we stopped the bleeding she calmed down a bit."

Fleur simply nodded and returned to the delicious smelling sauce she was making while she was correcting Bill on his knife skills.

Sirius walked over towards the cabinet in which Bill and Fleur kept their liquor and took out a bottle of firewhiskey. He poured himself a glass and took a deep swig before he put the glass down again and moved towards the door Ron was standing near. Sirius patted Ron's back for a small moment and left the living room to walk up the stairs.

At least Hermione was safe, was all Sirius could think about. Hermione was safe and Remus was alive. Harry was hurting, but he should get through it, but for now he had to focus on keeping Hermione happy.

Through the past few days Ron and Harry had started working on a plan to get to the next horcrux. They had started their polyjuice potion with Harry's potion making skills, but they still needed Hermione after all. As she was the brains behind the three.

He opened the door without knocking and found the sleeping girl underneath a blanket on the bed. Her whole body was covered in dirt and blood and so were the blankets after she had touched them. Sirius closed the door behind him and walked towards the small cabinet in the room containing books. He let his tatooed hand flow over the covers of the books until he found one that caught his attention.

He grabbed the book and walked towards the windowsill, where he sat down and started reading for hours to come.

Sirius had reached the final few pages when he saw movement coming from Hermione's direction. Sirius had already missed dinner and Remus waking up while sitting there, but he didn't care. There had to be someone in the room with Hermione at all times. He couldn't have Harry losing his best friend, nor his best friend's mind.

Hermione sat up and threw off the blanket, another tear escaped her eyes before she even noticed Sirius was in the room with her. When she felt his pressence and looked over at the man sitting in the windowsill and smiled a little.

"Hey," she said with watering eyes.

"Hey kiddo," he said before he closed his books and moved his stiffened body towards the bed where he sat down gently, "did you sleep well?"

Sirius moved a loose string of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes behind her ear and smiled a little at the subtle flinch, "I slept okay."

"Did you have any nightmares?" Sirius asked gently before he put a hand on her back, easing her into trusting him.

"No, I didn't," Hermione answered, "I didn't dream at all."

"That's good," Sirius told her.

"Is it?"

"Better than nightmares," he said with a chuckle, "what about I wash you up a little? Your hands and your face?"

Hermione first hesitated, but then nodded, feeling slightly happier at the thought of having clean hands and a clean face. Sirius had stood up and walked to the bathroom before he returned with a bowl of water and soap and a towel. He sat down at the edge of the bed, just inches away from Hermione and placed the bowl in between them.

He gently let the towel soak up some of the soap-water mixture and took hold of Hermione's hand. He swiped away the dirt from her hand in subtle movements, exposing the peachy skin they both had grown to know. After her left hand was clean, he moved onto her right hand and did the same thing until it was clean enough for his liking.

Sirius looked up from concentrating on Hermione's hands and instead looked at her face and the layer of dirt with the lines carved through the layers by tears and swallowed. The once so beautiful girl was sitting on that bed with almost nothing left of the fierceness he had grown to respect.

He smiled a sad smile before he pressed the wet towel against her cheek and brushed away some of the dirt, causing Hermione to flinch a little.

"Are you hurt?" Sirius asked her after he pulled away from the flinch.

"I'm fine," Hermione answered, "I think I may have a few bruises and small cuts on my face, but that's all."

"Did that snatcher do that to you?" Sirius asked carefully.

"Scabior?" she said confused, "No, he didn't really hurt me."

"What do you mean with _not really_?" Sirius asked while he started cleaning her face again.

"He was sometimes a little rough," Hermione admitted, "when we were travelling we lay on the forest ground, maybe I got a few cuts there."

"Did he ever strike you?" Sirius almost whispered while looking at Hermione's chocolate brown eyes.

"No, he's never hit me, but he sometimes grabbed onto my arm very hard, leaving bruises," the girl answered, "and he screamed at me."

"What else did he do to you?" he asked after he had draped the towel over his leg and left the cleaning for after their conversation.

"He tied me up really tight when we were walking," Hermione told him while she felt the tears come up again, "and he had me walk 30 miles before he healed my feet."

Sirius took hold of Hermione's hand and squeezed, trying to tell her it was okay, "And he humiliated me when we were alone, but also in front of his inferiors. He intimidated me and he called me luv' and princess and stuff like that..."

"Okay..."

"He touched me-"

"Wait, what?" Sirius interrupted, "He touched you?"

"Yes, he touched me," Hermione said in a quiet voice while she was on edge of crying, "he touched me."

"How did he touch you?" Sirius asked while looking deep into her eyes.

"First it was just brushing his finger along my hand," Hermione explained before she looked away from Sirius' intriguing look, "breathing against my neck, touching my waist and making sexual remarks."

Sirius nodded and released tension on Hermione's hand he was holding.

"He kissed me and touched me in the process," Hermione saw Sirius' rage flaring up from the corner of her eye, "he... he..."

"Shagged you?" Sirius asked bluntly.

"Eventually," Hermione answered, "and I'm afraid he made me fall for him in the process."

"Jezus, sweet circe," Sirius muttered before he set down the bowl of water and stood up from the bed, "he... he had sex with you?"

"Yeah..." Hermione answered.

"Did he force you?" the man asked while his hands were tangled up in his hair.

"At first just a little, but I gave into it," Hermione told him, "he, uhm... came to the dungeons last night."

"Dear Lord..."

"I think he raped me," Hermione said before she started crying and covered her face with her hands, softening the sound of her sobs. Sirius rushed towards her and took her in his arms. One draped around her shoulders and the other pulling her close to him. He placed a kiss on top of her head and moved his hands across her arms, trying to calm her down.

"It's all right, Hermione," he whispered, "it's not your fault."

Hermione nodded against his chest, but didn't move, "What do I do?"

"Nothing, sweetheart," Sirius told her, "You're safe now, remember? You're with your friends."

"What if they'll hate me?" she sobbed, "What if they'll hate me, Sirius?"

"They won't hate you..."

Hermione nodded and released herself from the tight hug, "Sirius?"

"Hm...?"

"I want to take a shower. Can I?"

"Of course you can," Sirius said with a kind smile before he stood up and took the bowl and towl with him to Hermione's bathroom, "Can you do it yourself or should I call someone to help you?"

"I'll manage," Hermione said with a sad smile, "will you be here when I'm done?"

"I will," Sirius answered, "and I'll get you something to eat, all right?"

"All right," Hermione answered, feeling a bit relieved.

Sirius walked back to the shower and turned it on before he walked back into the room and held the door open for Hermione, "I'll be right here when you're done."

"Thank you, Sirius."

The black haired man walked back towards the bed and read the final pages of the book he had buried himself into before he walked downstairs and warmed up some dinner for both of them. No one in the room questioned anything of his doing while he reheated the food and took it upstairs. He cleaned Hermione's sheets, took a fresh book from the cabinet and started waiting for Hermione to be done.

When he finally heard the shower stop he looked up and saw Hermione standing in the doorway with just a towel covering her upper-body and a small part of her legs. Sirius' mouth dropped, but he contained himself from saying or doing anything, nor did he let himself get aroused from the girl.

"I haven't gotten any clean clothes," Hermione told him with a red flushed face.

"Uh... Ri... Right!" he said before he stood up and put his hands in his pockets, "Do you... uhm... Do you want me to go get Fleur?"

"No! Uhm," Hermione realised she had put Sirius in an uncomfortable position, him being a man and walked over to her pants and took out the shrunken bag, "I have clothes in my bag, but Scabior shrunk it for me... And I don't have my wand, so... could you?"

Sirus' eyes widened when he heard the name: "Scabior" again, but he choose to ignore it and take out his wand. He cleared his throat and said, "No problem," before he mumbled a few words and returned the bag to its original state.

"Thank you," Hermione said before she looked at the bag and at her towel and back, "Could you maybe...?"

"Grab you some clothing?" Sirius asked for reassurance.

"Yeah..."

"Sure," Sirius said with a kind smile before he got down on one knee and opened the bag, "Are you looking for something comfy?"

"Yes, please."

Sirius pulled out a pink sweatshirt with a pair of dark blue jeans and big wool socks and handed them to Hermione.

"Thank you," Hermione said, "but I still need underwear..."

Harry's godfather looked up with big eyes and looked back down at the bag again and handed Hermione a black lace bra and black panties with little pink flowers.

"You've got good taste," Hermione teased the red flushed man before returning to the bathroom.

Sirius swallowed and closed the bag before he dropped it next to her cabinet. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, waiting for Hermione to return in the clothing he had picked for her.

When the bathroom door finally opened and a full clothed Hermione walked in with comfortable clothing and underwear underneath which Sirius knew the colours of, he felt a strange tingle warming him up. He grinned and walked towards the bed where the platter of food was waiting for them.

"I heated some for you," he told her, "and for me."

Hermione walked towards the food resting on the bed and took the lid off before she sat down and put her plate on her crossed legs and started eating. Sirius grinned and walked up to the bed as well and sat down.

"You like it?"

A few approving sounds left Hermione's mouth while eating, which Sirius took as an answer before he started eating as well. The piperade - bit like ratatouille - with salad Fleur made was absolutely delicious and so was the red wine that went with it. After they both finished up eating Hermione took her glass of wine and the bottle off the platter and put it down, so only the both of them were left on the bed with their wine.

"Do you want to talk some more?" Sirius asked her.

Hermione put the bottle on her nightstand and sighed before she took a sip of wine, "I don't know, " she answered, "I don't know what to talk about."

"You told me you developed feelings for..."

"Scabior," she filled in, "his name is Scabior."

"I think I knew him," Sirius said, "back from my time in Azkaban."

Hermione looked at the man sitting on the bed next to her and nodded, "I know he's been to Azkaban, so that could be true."

"Do you know what he was in for?" Sirius asked her carefully, not sure if he wanted her to already know or not.

"I heard he killed his father," Hermione said bitterly, "in his fifth year of Hogwarts."

"That's right," Sirius said before he took a sip of his wine himself, "he told me his father was abusive and blamed him for the death of his mother. One day he snapped and murdered him. Got kicked out of Hogwarts and onto a trip to Azkaban to think about what he did for thirty years. The boy was just fifteen..."

"His father was abusive?" Hermione asked Sirius in surprise.

"Yep," he answered, "in Azkaban there was this huge... space where the prisoners could talk and sport for about an hour each day if the prisoner behaved. I got the privilege after two years, Christopher after about three. Christopher was the talk of the town, one of the youngest murderers Azkaban had ever known. He was quiet at first, so was I, but after about a year I walked up to him and asked him why he did what he did. Well... he started talking."

"I don't... understand," Hermione told him, "why would he tell you why he did it? He didn't tell _me_."

"Hermione, you have to understand," Sirius started explaining, "that I scared everyone to death. They thought I was the Order's traitor who could kill his best friends and thirteen innocent people without a blink of an eye. Even some of the darkest deatheaters couldn't claim such thing upon themselves... I had a reputation. So... if I asked someone a question, I got an answer."

Hermione looked at Sirius with big eyes and gave a nod of approval, "Sirius the dominator of Azkaban," she mumbled, "funny thing..."

Sirius chuckled and took another sip of his wine, "It's funny how those things work," he said, "one day you're in full confidence your friends are safe and the next you're being shipped off to Azkaban for their murder. It's a bitter world, Hermione, and I'm afraid you've been introduced."

"Sirius," Hermione said before she lay her hand on his knee, "I've been introduced to the bitter world the moment you-know-who came back. I've always known that war would break out again and I'd get hurt in the process. The real trick is handling the situation you're in."

"Do you think you're handling your situation right, right now?" Sirius asked her, ignoring the feeling he got from her warm hand.

"I don't know," she answered, "but at least Scabior is gone and I'm safe."

"Will you be alright?" he asked her while playing with his wine.

"I think I will," she said with a smile.

"Good..."

"Very good."

* * *

 **Hi again! Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it.**

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	18. Chapter 17

**Hello again! I'm sorry if it took a little longer than expected, I managed to actually lose pieces of my chapter three times and having to rewrite it three times, but here it is. In all its glory.**

 **Enjoy.**

 **Chapter 17**

 _"I didn't."_

 _"Yes, you did."_

 _"No! Stop blaming me for her mistakes!"_

 _"Do not raise your voice to me like-"_

 _"I'll do as I damn well please," the young boy said before he took a step closer towards his father, "and you can't do shit about it."_

 _"You will not use such language in_ my _house and you will not raise your voice to_ me _."_

 _"Then I'll move out," he spat, "I'd rather live on the streets than in a house being terrorized by a man like you."_

 _"Go! Go on then!" the older man screamed, "Nobody is stopping you, boy. Nobody is stopping you! Go ahead, I've never cared for you anyhow. Your stupid mother thought you could be saved... your stupid, naïve mother."_

 _"You cannot call her that!" the boy drew his wand and pointed it at his father, "You cannot blame_ me _for_ her _death while_ you're _sitting around all day doing nothing but insult her!"_

 _"You_ are _to blame for her death, Christopher!" the wand was knocked out of the boy's trembling hand, onto the ground, "You are to blame! You, being the filthy, manipulative shit that you are! Sorted into Slytherin... what more to say?"_

 _"I didn't do that!" he cried out, "I didn't choose for that! I didn't decide to be in Slytherin and I didn't decide to be who I am, but I am and I loved my mother and she loved me."_

 _"You tell yourself that, boy... You keep on telling yourself that and maybe one day you'll believe yourself."_

 _"I hate you!" he screamed on the top of his lungs._

 _"Of course you do," the man said before he took out a cigar and lit it up, "not like a sad creature I have the unfortune to call my son has the ability to do anything but spread hatred. That's what got your mother to kill herself, ya know... How you failed and how you hated."_

* * *

Scabior opened his eyes and gasped. He clenched his hand around his throat that barely managed to get air going until finally he calmed down and some air started going in and out of his lungs. He sat up and leaned back. It was only a dream, he wasn't actually back. His father wasn't alive, he was gone. Just a dream, nothing more than a memory.

The snatcher stood up and walked towards his desk where a half full bottle of water lay and drank the remaining water in one go. He took deep and long breaths while leaning against the desk, with his hands clenching the wood and his eyes fixated on the canvas wall. Scabior threw the empty bottle onto the ground and took took a few big steps towards his conference table where he sat down and put his head in his hands.

He had been suffering from nightmares before. They had haunted him every night for a very long time, but he hadn't had a single one in many months.

Scabior looked at the papers lying on the table and looked through them. Where was she? Where was she when he needed her?

With a single swing of Scabior's arm the table was cleared from paperwork. He sat down again and closed his eyes. Why were they coming back? Those terrible memories? Why did his past keep on haunting him?

Scabior stood up and walked outside, for a change ignoring the fact he was only wearing his pyama-bottoms. He walked through the snatcher's camp that had quieted down about three hours ago and entered the tent of Captain Racotty.

He drew his wand and yelled, "Wakey fucking wakey, Racotty!"

The woman laying in her bed with a naked man shot up and drew her wand herself, but realised it was Scabior seconds later, "Scabior, what the _fuck_?"

"I've tried ta ignore it, Racotty," Scabior told her, "I tried to ignore the fact tha' you went behind my back, but honestly, I've had it!"

Racotty covered her chest with some of the blanket and sighed, "The Granger girl again?"

"God _fucking_ damn it!" Scabior exclaimed while swinging around his wand, "It ain't fucking about tha' girl, it's about ya shitting _loyalty_!"

Scabior walked away from the naked woman and screamed, "We're not done, Captain Racotty. You'll come to me in the morning, or I'll make sure tomorrow morning will be your last."

The man returned towards his own tent with tears filling his eyes and slammed his tent open. He picked up a book lying on his desk and -

 _"Chrissie cockroach?" a girl said, standing in the doorway, "What are you reading?"_

 _"Nothing," he answered, "it's just a book."_

 _"Is it that stupid detective again?" the girl asked with a roll of her eyes, "you should try reading something else."_

 _"Piss off, Charlotte," the boy, sitting on his bed beneath the blankets said, "I can read whatever I want."_

 _"You shouldn't let daddy hear you speak like that," the girl called Charlotte told him, "he'll be very mad."_

 _The boy swallowed and returned to his book, but was soon interrupted again by his sister sitting down on his bed next to him, "You should read another book."_

 _"I have read plenty of other books."_

 _"But you should try one of mine."_

 _"I don't want to read one of yours."_

 _"Daddy said it would be good for you," the girl said before she took the book from her little brother, "I think so too."  
_

 _"Give it back!"_

 _"No, it's mine now, because daddy said I could have anything and I, " she answered,"want your book."_

-dropped it as if the book was smoking hot. He took a step back and looked at it like the book would attack him any moment and walked back to the other end of the tent where he crawled back in a corner and held his head with bloodshot, opened eyes.

 _"You are nothing."_

A tear balanced on the edge of his eye and touched the surface of his hardened cheek.

 _"You'd better be off dead, son," he said, "at least then I wouldn't have that nagging headache anymore."_

* * *

 _"_ So, did you calm your titties down?" Racotty asked while she barged into the tent and sat down at the table, "I'm here. I'll have another morning. What do you _want_?"

"The nightmares are back," Scabior answered, with his back still turned to the woman sitting at his table.

No sound came from the Snatcher Captain until she said, "What happened?"

"Don't know," he told her, "and I don't really care."

"Right... So what do you want me for?"

"Apologize," he ordered her, "apologize for going behind my back and making me hand her over."

"Fine," she said, "I'm sorry, now what is going on?"

Scabior took off his scarf and threw it on the bed without turning around, "I don't fucking know."

"You should go out on the field again, Chris," Racotty said, "it'll do you good."

"And be stuck with a bunch of idiots again?" Scabior scoffed, "No thanks."

"You've gotta get your head away from that girl," she told him, "believe me."

Scabior finally turned around and leaned back against the desk, "You shouldn't've gone behind my back."

"You shouldn't've caught feelings for the girl."

"Fuck off, would ya?"

"You started it..."

 _"She is dead, boy," he laughed, "she is dead! Who's gonna cry for your faith now?"_

"Scabior?"

 _A hand struck his cheek before he fell onto the brick floor, "Next time it won't be just a little whack."_

"Scabior? You're turning white..."

 _"A disgrace to your mother's face, that's what you are," he said before he spat on the boy, " A waste of time and a waste of air to breathe."_

 _"Daddy?"_

 _"Go upstairs, angel. I'll be right there."_

 _"_ Scabior!"

* * *

"Hermione, I'm sorry that I didn't come any sooner."

"Remus!"

Hermione stood up from her bed and walked towards the man standing in the doorway, "You won't ever have to worry about coming sooner when you're almost dying."

The recovering werewolf smiled and put a hand on Hermione's shoulder before he asked, "How have you been?"

"I've been OK," she answered, "I've been reading all day and I'm thinking about going for a walk in the early evening, would you care to join me?"

"I'd love to join you," Remus said with a small smile, "but I'm afraid Dora won't let me. She's terrified I'll faint or something in that matter. It's quite a miracle she let me walk through the corridor all by myself."

"Don't you want to sit down?" Hermione asked with concern.

"Oh, it's quite alright," he assured her with a chuckle, "getting the blood flowing!"

Hermione nodded and smiled, "Why don't you come in?"

"I'd love to, Hermione."

Remus walked into the room appointed to Hermione and looked around with his hands in the pockets of his brown trousers. Instead of the usual vests Remus wore, he had a plain grey t-shirt on, flattering the figure Remus mostly managed to hide, "You've got a lovely room here, Hermione."

"Thank you," Hermione said, "I thought I'd decorate the room a bit. I'm here to stay for another few weeks Harry told me, so I thought I'd better get comfortable."

"I quite like it."

"Thank you, Remus," she said with a smile, "to what do I owe this pleasure, though?"

"Oh, I just thought I'd come and see the girl I risked my life for!" Remus laughed, "It'd be a shame if you saw your hero lie in bed all day."

"Instead here you are... standing."

"Exactly."

Hermione smiled and sat down in the window-sill, "I'm glad you're getting better."

"Me too," Remus said before he took a few steps closer towards the girl, "now, how are you really?"

"I'm OK," Hermione chuckled, "And even if I'm only telling myself I'm OK, I'm sure I'll one day be again."

Remus nodded and let some relief flow through his body while he took another step towards Hermione and planted a kiss on her head, "I envy you."

"Why?"

"You're the cleverest witch of your time, _and_ ," Remus said with a smile, "you are stronger than anyone I've ever come across."

"That's not true..."

"Yes, it is," he assured her, "it is. Trust me."

Hermione looked down at her hands and fumbled with the sleeve of her shirt before she looked back up again at the man standing in front of her, "Now, sadly, I have to go back to my room. Not everyone is as strong as you."

"Oh, stop it!"

"No, I'm being serious!" Remus laughed, "I really have to get back, I have a fiancée who will kill me if I'm gone longer than a few minutes."

"Safe travels," she said before she watched her former professor leave the room.

Hermione closed the door behind him after Remus was gone for a while and walked towards her bag, still by the cabinet where Sirius had left it. She was determined to finally clear out her bag, so she squatted down next to it, but stopped unpacking when she saw a tiny piece of folded paper.

 _I'm sorry,_ it said.


	19. Chapter 18

**Hello, hello!**

 **I'm sorry the update took a little longer than usual. I had my fair share of problems with the chapter, including a big editing not being saved, so I hope it looks good. I also didn't have a lot of time to write this week, but I hope the extra word count makes up for it! So, so sorry!**

 **Please leave a review, follow or favourite if you haven't already. It's a huge help and brings a smile to my face ;)**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 18**

 _He opened his eyes. A few more hours of sleep was what he'd gotten. A few more hours, not feeling the presence of those creatures._

 _With opened and bloodshot eyes he sat up. He hadn't seen the sky in Merlin knows how long, he hadn't seen the sky since he was arrested._

 _He took a deep breath of air, his room had some ventilation through the peeking hole in his door, but honestly, he had the feeling he was running out of oxygen every passing minute, though he hadn't fainted yet. As far as he knew._

 _What time was it again?_

 _The boy, lying on his uncomfortable, wooden bed sat up and looked down at his scarred hands. Those were his. His hands. Those were his. What time was it again?_

 _"Thirty years," he muttered, "thirty years. Thirty years. Thirty years. Thirty years. Thirty years..."_

 _Thirty years for ridding the world of a monster. Thirty years was his 'Thank you'._

 _He stood up and walked from the one wall to the other and tried to figure out when the last time was he had touched another human being and when the last time was that he had gotten drunk. He looked at his wall on his left side, opposite from his bed and frowned. When was the last time he had drawn?_

 _The young boy moved his weakened body towards his wooden bed and sat down next to it. He started to carve. When he finally had a proper piece of wood, he let a small flame appear on the top of his finger and held it against the wood until it changed into a proper piece of coal. A smile of nostalgic sadness appeared on his face when he put the piece of coal to the surface of the brick wall and started to draw the finest details of a woman's face. The finest details of a mother's face._

 _He stood up to look at his artpiece from a distance, but was soon interrupted by a loud buzz and the door of his cell swinging open. A gust of wind rushed inside and Scabior sniffed. Nothing had ever smelled so good before._

 _His bare feet scraped over the tile floor while he made his way to the exit of his cell where he looked around and saw hundreds of inmates walking in line, down the stairs to the courtyard. Some of the wizarding prisoners were in heavy chains, due to their enlarged danger to other inmates._

 _"Eh! You!" he said to a man passing by, "Wha' year is i'?"_

 _"It's 1992," the man responded, "You've got to get ya shi' toghetar..."_

 _1992... He must've been 18 or maybe already 19? "Wha' month is it?"_

 _"February," another man said who dragged the boy into line, "now get yaself walkin'. This hour is the best hour o' the day. Bit o' air fillin' ya lungs. Nice an' fresh."_

 _Suddenly all the inmates walking down the flights of stairs were looking at each other while pointing at him before they started to bang their fists on the steel barriers keeping them from falling, or jumping. Their feet were pounding on the concreet and their voices began to shout._

 _His eyes widened when the crowd of criminals started yelling in his direction, "THE MURDERING CHILD!" "WANT ANOTHER DADDY?" "Watch out," the man behind him whispered in his ear, "they've all gone mental in 'ere."_

 _The boy kept walking down to the courtyard while looking at his feet and tried to make his way to a table quickly, to get away from the shouting crowd. But it didn't work, on the contrary, a huge man took hold of his arm and dragged him into the centre of the courtyard and threw him on the ground while the rest of the inmates were coming down._

 _"I knew your daddy," a woman sissed while she took a step forward, into the circle created by criminals surrounding them, "Valerius Scabior... Good man!"_

 _"He was no good man," Scabior spat at her, "he was a monster."_

 _The woman sat down next to Scabior and took his face in her hands, "Is that so? Did daddy beat you?"_

 _Scabior shook the woman away while he stood up, with trembling hands before he took a step back, "You know nothin' abou' it all..."_

 _"I know you've gotten yourself an accent," the black haired, crazed woman sissed while the inmates that could hear her grinned, "I know you've killed him, not with magic, but you smashed his head in with a_ brick _!"_

 _"And I could do i' again," the boy laughed, "so back off... Bellatrix Lestrange."_

 _"You know," the woman screeched, "who I am!"_

 _The woman licked her lips before stepping forward towards the boy, "Then you know the type of crowd you're in."_

 _"I do," he told her while taking a step back, "I'm part o' tha' crowd."_

 _She grinned and walked back towards the edge of the circle, "Have fun rotting away, Scabior boy!"_

* * *

Scabior stood up from his chair at the table with snatchers and stumbled towards the exit of the bar tent, "I'm gonna... go tent," he told them, "see ya fuck-ups... some day!"

The table of men laughed when Scabior tumbled over a chair on his way out, resulting in Scabior raising his middle finger with a laugh, "Fuck off! Ya bloody won't like tables when the table's hurting!"

Again the men started laughing, some of them couldn't contain themselves, resulting in a snatcher laying on the floor covered in butter beer and firewhiskey. Scabior raised his arms while walking out of the tent and took a deep breath, letting the chilly air of the night fill his lungs. All his senses were happied up by the bloody alcohol and he soon started tumbling towards his tent through the muddy snatcher's 'street'.

"Hey! Scabior!" a man who stumbled outside yelled, "I hate... tables!"

"Hey! ME TOO," the drunken head of snatchers screamed, "Go' me balls all fucked up once..."

"Nooooooo," his fellow snatcher exclaimed before he dropped onto his knees and started laughing with his face in the dirt, "NOOOOO not ya BALLS!"

Scabior caught onto his catchy laugh and was soon keeping himself from falling down. His whole body was shaking from laughter, but he forgot what he was laughing about, so decided to move towards his tent again. He still wasn't able to stop himself from roaring of laughter.

When he finally reached his tent he stumbled towards his bed, managed to get one boot and his coat off. His mind was so fuzzy that no thoughts were able to come through except for silly things, making him laugh again.

The moment his mind was finally able to stop finding itself funny, Scabior fell into a very deep sleep and was soon dreaming of flowers and sheep. Beautiful thing... Firewhiskey.

* * *

"Harry, Ronald," Hermione said while she walked towards the boys hunched over a small cauldron, containing their early version of a polyjuice potion, "how's the potion going?"

"It's starting to look good, Hermione," Harry said while he stirred the brew a bit, "really good, I reckon. Looks just like the one you made in our second year."

"It does, doesn't?" Ron said with a big smile, "I did the most of it, you know, Hermione. You should _really_ be thanking me."

Hermione rolled her eyes and sat down in between the boys. She looked at the potion for a bit longer, hypnotized by the strange colours and the bubbles it formed. She did really love making potions. To her it was almost an art.

"Do we have a plan yet?" Hermione asked while she moved her focus to the boys.

"Well," Harry started, "we have the potion and we want to get into Gringotts to Bellatrix Lestrange's vault. Not much to it..."

"Merlin's beard, what _have_ you been doing these past few days?" the witch sighed before she stood up and walked towards the door leading to the porch, "We'll figure it out. Tomorrow! In _detail_."

"Yes, Hermione, sir!" Ron exclaimed, causing her friend to sigh before opening the door and walking onto the porch, leaving behind the two boys she once called men before she sat down next to Sirius, who was looking at the sea roaring ahead of him. He then looked at the girl that had come to him and smiled, "Hey there, gorgeous."

"Hello to you too, Sirius," Hermione said back, "How's it going?"

"Nearly perfect," he answered while his eyes twinkeled in the golden light of the undergoing sun, "Moony is alive and happy as ever, my godson is breathing, I'm breathing and, not to forget, you're cheering up."

"Then what prevents it from being perfect?"

"Ah, took my bait," Sirius cheered, "I've been wanting to take a walk with you for quite some time now."

Hermione laughed and punched Sirius's arm slightly, "Such a coincidence it is," she chuckled, "that I was about to go on my usual evening stroll myself."

"Oh, I know that quite well."

The strength gaining girl stood up and put her hands on her sides and raised an eyebrow at the still sitting man, "Well? _You're_ the one wanting to go on a walk with _me._ "

Sirius smirked put his hands in the pockets of his trousers and walked towards Hermione, but stopped when he was just a feet away from her, "Show me the way."

Hermione took the sleeve of Sirius' shirt on turn and dragged him down onto the beach, "Take off your jacket," she said, "and your shoes... and your vest."

The man raised an eyebrow at her with a huge grin before he did as he was told and followed Hermione who had already started walking again, "I take long walks, shoes only slow you down."

Sirius smiled before he put his hands in the pockets of his trousers once again, but after a few yards of walking he stopped and sat down on one knee, "What are you doing?" Hermione laughed.

"Oh nothing," Sirius replied, "just rolling up my trousers. I kind of need everything I've got to keep up with your pace..."

"Am I going too fast for you, old man?" Hermione joked as she looked down at the man rolling up his pants.

"Yeah.. Yeah.. I get it," he chuckled before he stood up, "I'm old. Now come on."

He put his hand on Hermione's lower back, but instead of going straight ahead, like Hermione normally did, he guided her to the right, towards the dunes, "But... I was going to go on my usual walk!"

"The view is even better up there," Sirius stated in return, "Just... trust me. You'll love it."

"Fine... I trust you."

Together they walked up the dunes and while they were doing so, Scabior took his hand from Hermione's back and put it back in his trousers, "So how old are you anyway?" Hermione asked, through the calming noise of the water clashing over the sand and the low humming noises coming from Sirius' mouth.

"Try me..."

"Merlin... I don't know, around 45 years old?" Hermione said with a raised eyebrow.

"45?! Are you mental?" Sirius laughed, "I'm 38 for God's sake! I didn't know I actually looked _that_ old."

"It's your facial hair," Hermione said, trying to keep herself from bursting into laughter.

"My facial hair?" Sirius huffed, "My bloody facial hair is what is making me age _7 years_?"

"Calm down, beauty queen," she laughed, finally admitting," I was just teasing!"

"Oh bless Merlin's arse," Sirius gasped, "You were giving me a stroke..."

Hermione laughed and smiled, ignoring the warm feeling that rushed through her stomach. She looked up at the man on her side and looked at his beautiful, wavy hair and the broad shoulders covered by the thin fabric of his shirt. His lips, slightly pink and his eyes... beaming of energy.

She scraped her throat and put her hands together, containing herself from the man... keeping in mind that she didn't need any complications.

"I'm feeling better, by the way," Hermione said, bluntly, "better than before... and the cuts and bruises are getting less, so is the effect of the Cruciatus curse, which is _such_ a relief."

"I'm glad to hear it, Hermione," Sirius told her while looking at her, "Are you... dealing with the Scabior thing?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Your feelings for him," he answered.

"Oh! Right. Doing... great."

"Hermione, is something wrong?" he asked her while he stopped her from walking, forcing her into looking in his eyes.

She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it when she realised he had made her speechless, "Hermione?"

The girl scraped her throat and said, "Doing great."

Sirius raised an eyebrow and kept looking her in the eye until Hermione figured a way out of her speechlessness, "It's just... I haven't heard from him, nor spoken to him, nor seen him of course and it's making me... almost nervous."

Sirius nodded and began to speak while starting to walk again, "It's just... being in love, really," he said, "it makes you long for someone."

"I'm not _longing_ for him," Hermione scoffed, "I'm not sure if I'd ever want to see him again. He broke my heart, Sirius."

"I see..."

"But there's some part of me that keeps thinking about him," she continued, "There's a part still inside me that wants to figure him out and unravel his secrets."

"Hermione, if you'd let me," Sirius started, "Love shouldn't be a puzzle."

"It should explain itself," Hermione finished, "I know. I miss him, is all."

Sirius nodded and looked straight ahead again. The sun was already down and the little light that was left was starting to fade further away. The comfortable silence they were in was calming the older man down even more than it calmed the girl down. The mere presence of a girl like Hermione was enough to let Sirius forget his thoughts and relax for a change.

Hermione suddenly walked towards the edge of the dune they were walking on and sat down on the sand. She looked up at Sirius, who soon followed her movements and sat down next to her. The girl stared in the distance ahead of her and smiled, "The view truly is magnificent."

"It is, isn't?"

She closed her eyes and lay her head on Sirius' shoulder, Sirius scootched over closer and let his arm support her back, "I'm glad you're here," Hermoine said.

"Me too..."

The two sat in silence quite a while there, on the dunes, covered in the darkness the night provided until Sirius said, "We should head back."

"Not yet," she replied before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath of salty air, "not just yet..."

* * *

"Sirius! Wake up!"

"What?"

Hermione turned on the light in Sirius' room and ran over to his bed. "I just thought of something," she said before she sat down, "Tonks tried to blast off the lock of the dungeons, but couldn't, because no wizard or witch could preform any type of magic inside those dungeons."

"Yeah...?"

"Remember that I told you about Scabior coming down for me?" Hermione said, while panick rushed through her body.

"I remember."

"He used a charm on me to prevent pregnancy...-"

"Yes, OK..."

"So that charm wouldn't work!" Hermione exclaimed in a turned down voice, "OH I'm such an _idiot_!"

"Hermione, you're not an idiot," Sirius told her, "it's prefectly...-"

"What if I'm pregnant?" she gasped, "What if I'm pregnant of his child? I don't want to be pregnant!"

"Hermione, love, calm down," Sirius said while he took hold of her shoulders, "Calm down gorgeous. We'll figure it out, OK?"

"Oh my GOD," she whispered, "What do I _do_?"

"Maybe we should try start with finding out if you're actually pregnant," Sirius said with a kind smile, "let's... not jump to conclusions, shall we?"

"OK."

Hermione took a deep breath and started pacing through Sirius' room, "Let's find out if I'm pregnant from Scabior... I should kill the baby if I am," she told Sirius in an almost whisper, "I can't... raise a child."

Sirius licked his lips and looked up at at the ceiling, "Í'm not sure what you should do, 'Mione," he admitted, "but what I do know is that you won't be killing a _baby_. It's about a bit longer than a week since we got you out of the Malfoy Manor...-"

He stood up and walked over to the pacing Hermione, who he stopped from pacing with a touch of his hand on her arm, "-the thing isn't a baby until at least after 8 weeks. If you descide to remove it after two or three, you'll only be killing a bundle of cells."

"I know," Hermione said, "but it still feels like a baby..."

"Hermione, I agree with you on the killing the bundle of cells. You're 18," Sirius chuckled, "you have a whole life ahead of you and in that whole life you have the time to get yourself a child while not being in the middle of a war."

Hermione nodded and walked over to Sirius' bed where she sat down and crossed her legs, "You'll be fine, Hermione."

"Of course, I'll be," she mumbled, "I'm Hermione Granger."

Sirius laughed while he walked over to Hermione and sat down next to her. He lay his hand on Hermione's bare leg, squeezed as a confirmation and smiled, "Of course you'll be."

Hermione looked up at Sirius and took in the features of his quite beautiful face. It always seemed to hypnotise her and she knew she wasn't the only one finding the man attractive. She and Ginny had swooned over the man in her fifth year of Hogwarts, but no way Sirius would ever find out.

"Do you want kids?" Hermione asked him.

"What are you proposing?" Sirius said with a mischievous grin.

"I'm not proposing anything, Black," Hermione told him with a teasing look on her face, "I was just wondering."

Sirius turned his face away from her and stared at the wall facing his bed, "I always wanted a kid," he answered, "I saw James and Lily getting Harry and next to the thought of me finding him the most beautiful little creature, I couldn't help but wonder how my child would look."

Hermione felt a shiver go down her spine and soon Sirius had placed a blanket around Hermione's shoulders, "It seemed like a beautiful dream to have children," he continued, "but I didn't seem to find the right girl before I was send to Azkaban and well... I jumped from war to war and now, suddenly, I'm 38. I'm not sure if I should anymore..."

"Remus is your age," Hermione told him while she got comfortable wrapped in his blanket, smelling of Sirius, "he is getting a child _very_ soon."

"But that's Remus..."

"Meaning?" Hermoine laughed.

"He's... what? Five months younger?" Sirius attempted, "I don't know, Hermione. Maybe if I find the right one, but for now I have my hands full with James' kid. Bloody fuck up, that Prongs."

Hermione laughed, but enjoyed their silence again short after. "You should get back to bed, 'Mione," he said, "we'll try and figure out if you're actually pregnant in the morning."

"Yeah... OK," Hermione said with a smile, "the bed somehow feels empty now, without Christopher."

Sirius placed a kiss on her head and smiled, "I know it does," he said, "and I would gladly offer you a spot in mine if it wouldn't upset the entire population of this house."

She laughed and stood up, "Thanks, Sirius."

"Nothing to thank me for," he said with a wink before he stood up and walked her out the door, "Sleep tight, Hermione."

"Yeah, good night," she whispered before walking back to her own room.

She opened the door, leading to her bedroom and sat down on her bed. She looked at the clock on her nightstand and saw a 03:12 beaming at her. _Shit_ , she thought, _should've thought that through._

She then got under her own blanket and picked up the small piece of paper with the words _'I'm sorry'_ written on it. Could it be from Scabior?

Hermoine smooched her lips and put the tiny message back on her nightstand and put the lights out with a flick of her fingers. But the thoughts were still rushing through her mind, keeping her awake for hours until she finally stood up and walked back to Sirius' room. This time she didn't turn on the lights, nor did she wake him up with a loud voice. Instead she sat down next to the sleeping Sirius and stared at the wall facing her, waiting for Sirius to wake up sometime soon.

"Hermione?" he grunted.

"Yeah," she whispered back," it's me..."

"Something wrong?"

"I couldn't fall asleep."

"What time is it?"

"Almost five..."

He sighed and muttered, "Come here."

Hermione got underneath his blankets and snuggled close to him. She lay her head on his strong, warm chest. He wrapped his warm, bare arms around her body, making her feel safe for the first time in months and soon, very soon, she felt her brain doze off.


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

"Good morning, Hermione," she heard a low voice say from behind her.

She kept on cutting her kneed grass until the man fully stood beside her, "I woke up this morning and you were already gone."

"I know," Hermione told him, "I had things to take care of."

"Such as?" Sirius teased.

"Saving this polyjuice potion," she answered before she looked up at him with her 'fuck off' look, "as you can see."

Sirius chuckled and walked towards the cupboard near where Hermione was standing. "So," he started while leaning back against the countertop with a glass of water, "kneed grass?"

Hermione stopped cutting and sighed, "Yes, Sirius, kneed grass."

"Humpf..."

" _What_?"

"What? Well... I took a look at the potion," Sirius stated, "and I think the problem is not a lack of kneed grass, but a lack of leeches."

"Bullshit," Hermione scoffed, "I'm the one with an A in Potionmaking, not you. I think _I_ should be fully capable of understanding this potion."

"All right then," Sirius said before he licked his lips and started making an attempt at leaving the kitchen, but instead turned around and said: "Would you fancy a walk?"

"No."

Sirius sighed, took out the bread a cut a piece off of it before he asked, "Do you need help with the potion?"

"I don't."

"Would you like some company?" he tried at last.

"Most certainly not if it involves a man staring at me," she stated.

The man smooched his lips and put down his bread before walking back over to Hermione. He brushed the curls that had fallen in front of her face back behind her ear and leaned closer to it to whisper: "We should do it again sometime."

He bit his lip, took his bread and walked away to the outside. Hermione closed her eyes, took deep long breaths and decided to get back to her potion.

She was already in love with the arrogant snatcher and Sirius Black had managed to confuse her even more, but she had to focus on her main goal: beating Voldemort. She threw the kneed grass into the cauldron and sat down next to it. She stirred the pot, but soon saw the normally muddy colour turn slightly more green than was requested and cursed loudly before standing up and taking out the leeches from the cupboard. "Told ya."

Hermione turned around and threw a leech at the man standing arrogantly in the doorway, "Did you just throw a leech at me?" he exclaimed, "Are you mental?!"

She rolled her eyes and put a few cut up leeches into the potion and saw it turn to its thick, bubbly state, "You're such a drama queen, Sirius," she told him, "and, by the way, I'm in love with Scabior. So if you could stop confusing me, I'd appreciate it."

Sirius took off his jacket and sat down next to the potion stirring Hermione, "I'm confusing you?"

"Yes," she answered, "you're confusing me."

"How am I confusing to you?" Sirius said with a sly grin.

"Oh... stop it!" Hermione screeched, "You know exactly what I'm talking about, you git."

Sirius licked his lips and folded his legs, "Do you know whether or not you're pregnant yet?"

"No," Hermione answered, "but I want you to do the spell either way. I don't even want to find out if I am anymore."

The man nodded and started fumbling with his wand, "Do you want to do it now?"

"No, not now," she answered, "I'm in the middle of saving our lives."

Sirius laughed and stood up, "I never got to ask you how you saved mine," he told while looking down at the girl.

"I found a piece of parchment," she answered his indirect question, "giving me the instructions to bringing someone back from the veil. It wasn't easy, but not impossible either."

He nodded and put his hand on her shoulder before squatting down on one knee and taking her chin with his hand, "Thank you," he said, before leaving a kiss on her cheek, nearly touching her lip.

Sirius stood up again and walked back up the stairs, leaving Hermione alone in the living room/kitchen once again. She licked her lips and kept on stirring before she stood up, dragged Harry from his room and sat him down for potion watch. She left the boy behind and went to her own room, where she took a piece of parchment, a quill and some ink and started writing.

* * *

"All right! We're 'ere," Scabior said, quite happy with himself, "Ya shits are gonna pair up and send out a flare if ya catch somethin' or if ya fucked somethin' up. I have some unfinished business ta take care of. Copy tha'?"

A few grunts came from the group of hungover men. Scabior took a deep breath and waited for his team to disappear before he started his trip down the hill, leading to the house by the woods. A big oak tree stood near the lake by the house. The tree that always lingered in his mind. After a walk of 15 minutes he didn't have to take, he reached the house he used to visit every year and opened the door with a simple charm.

He walked inside, but when he saw the furniture, the curtains and paintings he soon rushed outside again and slammed the door shut. There was only one reason for his return to the place of his past. For Hermione's wand. He walked over towards the huge oak tree, squatted down and with a flick of his wand Hermione's was burried. He sat down on the spot where he'd burried the wand and leaned back against the tree.

He knew he was sitting only a feet away from his father's grave, but he actually didn't care. He didn't tell a living soul about where his father lies at first, but after they gave him a deal he the location of his father's grave. 5 years in exchange for the location of a dead body.

Scabior knew his sister hated him for the fact that he had kept the location of the grave secret for so long.

Charlotte had loved their father and now there was nothing left of him but a skeleton, burried deep in the ground. Scabior saw that the grave now also had a grave stone saying: _Valerius Christoper Scabior 04-04-1946 / august 1988. He was a loving father and husband. May his soul rest._

"Yeah! Ya were a tremendous father!" Scabior scoffed at the grave, "And I'm glad tha' smug face has been ripped away from the earth..."

Once in a while he _had_ felt affection for his sister, Charlotte. Those moments were the moments she didn't bully him, but played nice. They had sometimes played a game together. Football, which his father liked or a mini version of Quidditch, which his mother adored. He hated his muggle born father. Never, not since he was able to have a clear thinking process, had he loved the man. Nor had Valerius ever loved him.

His sister was the one that had turned him in. She was the one that noticed the bloodstains on the floor and knew something was wrong. Later on, when Charlotte came to visit him for the first time since his four years rotting away in Azkaban she told him in a spat that she was the one. She was the one that had told the aurors she could only think of her little brother, Christopher, to being capable of killing the well-loved man she called her father...

 _"Chris? Are you coming down for dinner, sweetheart?" a kind female voice asked._

 _"Yes, mummy," a boy answered, "can I finish my page first?"_

 _"Sweetheart... dinner'll get cold..."_

 _"But...-_ _"_

 _His father, who was already on the first floor, stormed into the little boy's room and grabbed him by his collar, "Didn't ya hear ya mother? She said dinner's ready, then wha' would you say?"_

 _"That I'm coming," the boy cried out before his father had slammed him onto the floor of the first floor hallway, "I shouldn't be disrespectful."_

 _"Tha's right! Now go down the fuckin' stairs and apologize," his father sneered at the boy, "Go!"_

 _The young Christopher stumbled down the stairs to his mother who waited for him with shaking hands. The boy took his mother's hand and said, "I'm sorry, mummy. What did you make for dinner?"_

 _His mother shook her head and squeezed the boy's hand, "It's all right, Chris," she squatted down next to the boy and place her hand on his cheek, causing the little boy to smile, "I'm not mad at you."_

 _"But daddy said...-"_

 _"It doesn't matter what daddy said," his mother assured him, "daddy just didn't sleep that well last night, all right? I love you, my little Christopher. You know that, right?"_

 _"I know that," the boy answered with a smile, "I love you, too."_

 _"Okay then," his mother said, before she pushed him slightly towards the door, "Rius? Are you coming down?"_

 _"Yeah.. Yeah.. I'm coming!" the man said while he rushed down the stairs, with his feet hitting the wood with loud thumps, "You shouldn't be spoiling such a boy like tha' and you know it. Giving the boy your time is a waste o' time."_

 _"I don't think it is, Rius," he heard his mother say, "I think he's a good boy, you just have to give him the chance to show it to you."_

 _"He's nine already and I haven't seen a thing," her husband spat, "I bet it's your fault. Ya should've been tougher with 'im like I said ya should."_

 _"Sometimes a little lov-"_

 _"Oh always you with the lovey dovey stuff!" he suddenly screamed, "Just get back into the kitchen, woman! Let me handle the scamp."_

 _His mother appeared back in the kitchen where Christopher and his sister were sitting in silence. Their mother put down a pan and walked back to the stove to get the next when Charlotte said, "I told you, it's all your fault. Mummy is sad because of you."_

A shiver went down Scabior's spine while the images flashed through his head. He hated the place. He hated the house with the white paint scaling off. He hated that monster's grave, the tree, the water... but most of all: the memories. His _mother_ loved him, was all he had to know. It was all that mattered to him.

Scabior attempted to stand back up when an owl came down and landed in front of him with a big smack, "Poor thing," Scabior grunted before he took the letter from the bird and leaned back again. He took out some bread crumbs and gave them to the bird before he opened the letter assigned to: _Christopher Scabior, wherever you may be._

He unfolded the piece of parchment and started reading:

 _Scabior,_

 _Hopefully this letter has been safely delivered to you._ _Could you feed the bird something, please? It's an old owl._

 _I had quite a few things to say and well, we haven't spoken in quite a while and there was no other option then to simply write to you. So here goes: I'm in love with you._

 _But I can't be with you like I want to be with you. You are too different and too far away. You're a deatheater and I don't think I can ever be with someone who supports the man that has killed my best friend's parents and many more. I have lost another friend recently, another almost died. My friends have put their lives at stake, because you put mine in danger and in the process someone lost his._

 _And I blame you._

 _I blame you for scarring me, for hurting me, for letting me fall in love with you and to have you break my heart. Maybe I'm the one breaking hearts right now and maybe it isn't yours, but I sure as hell know I'm feeling mine break at least a little._

 _This probably is the last time you'll be hearing from me and I don't expect an answer back. I just had to say the things I needed to say and I've done that. This is my closure._

 _I honestly hope you are well and I also hope that somewhere, deep down, you know that you aren't doing the right thing._

 _Take care of yourself,_

 _Hermione._

He was silent. He folded up the piece of parchment and put it inside the pocket of his coat.

She loved him.

She couldn't be with him.

What was the point in telling him she loved him if she wouldn't be able to be with him either way? What was the point? Did she want him to feel the way she did? Did she want to torture him? Did she want to leave him panicked? In shock? With an aching heart and tearing eyes?

Did she want him to scream on the top of his lungs? Reach for his head? Crawl into a ball against the tree and tear his hair out? Did she want him to stomp on the grass? Kick the ground over his father's grave and break the few windows the house had left?

What did she expect him to do?

Move on?

* * *

Scabior stumbled into the bar and reached for a bottle of firewhiskey. He took off the cap, took a swing and turned around. Only men were sitting at the bar and only men were crowding the tables.

He drank the rest of the bottle and threw the thing on the ground, shattering the glass. He didn't care for the burning sensation in his throat, nor the cuts a few of the shards left on his hands. Distraction was what he was looking for and distraction was what he would find.

Finally a young woman walked into the bar and ordered a beer. Scabior walked over to her and leaned against the counter, "Cancel all your plans for tonight."

The girl scanned the man up and down before she took a sip of her beer and said: "And why would I do that?"

Scabior grinned, took the beer from the girl, put it on the countertop and took a step closer and lay his hand on her waist before leaning in closer, "'cause I'm drunk and amazing in bed. And I would _love_ to see _you_ naked."

He kissed the girl beneath her jaw before he heard a sound that counted as an affirmation. So he paid for their drinks and escorted her out of the tent towards his own. The moment the had entered his room, Scabior kissed the girl, took off his clothing and shagged her for a solid half hour before he fell onto the bed and turned off the light.

The naked girl didn't even bother getting underneath the blankets, nor did she put on any clothes. So the next morning, when Scabior woke up and looked over at the naked woman in his bed he thought: _What in God's name have I done?_

* * *

 **Hello there!**

 **Thanks so much for reading. I am really curious to what you guys think about the background I gave Scabior and the relationship between him and Hermione, but also what you think of the development between Sirius and Hermione. Any type of comment is very much appreciated. So, if you liked it, I obviously would love to hear it, but if you think that something could be done better, I would highly appreciate it if you'd let me know ;)**

 **Anyhow, just let me know what you're thinking. Whether pr not you'd like to brutely murder me, or marry me and what you'd like to see in the following chapters/ stories.**

 **Have a lovely day,**

 **Cheers!**


	21. Chapter 20

**Once again the chapter came out a bit late. I'm in the middle of my test week, so I haven't found that much time to write. But yet here the new chapter is! Enjoy and tell me what you think ;)**

 **Chapter 20**

A shiver went down her spine as she sat up in her bed, panting. Her forehead was covered in sweat and her covers were soaked. Hermione had never had such a vivid dream. She knew she was going through a rough time full of horrors, but having a nightmare _during_ was very uncommon. The glass, standing on her bedstand lacked water after a few seconds and the too hot bed was left empty with the flick of an eye. She walked towards her bathroom and splashed some water on her face.

She looked in the mirror and saw her thinning face, the blue circles beneath her eyes and her wretched lips. She took a deep breath before she dug her hairbrush in the thick bush of brown curls, trying to tame it a little.

It was already morning, she noticed by a small beam of light able to sneak into the room through a crack in her curtains.

She felt a roaring sensation coming from her stomach, making her rather eager to fill it. She dropped the hairbrush and walked downstairs barefeet and still wearing her pyamas. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, "I'm sorry... for what? Bloody fucking me over? He's sorry..."

Hermoine walked into the kitchen and bumbed into a muffin eating man at the counter. She looked up from the fiddling with her nails and staired into the grey eyes of Sirius Black.

"Who's sorry?" he asked with a chuckle.

"No one," she answered with a grunt before she walked around the man and heated up some water in a mug with the palm of her hand, "it's just... it's just that it's morning, it's nothing really."

"It's not morning, kitten," Sirius told her, "it's noon. Harry was already discussing wether to wake you up or not, but we all figured we _really_ shouldn't."

"I'm feeling grumpy."

"We've noticed."

"Fuck off," Hermione put down her mug and took a bag of tea and a bowl of cereal before she walked over towards the counter and sat down, "I'm not feeling like conversation."

Sirius raised his eyebrows at hearing Hermione swear and shrugged, "Alright if you're not appreciating the nice side of me you can always have the less nicer side. Would you like that?"

Hermione looked at the man, not wearing his usual clothes and blinked a few times, "Enlighten me."

The man took his elastic band and put his hair up in a bun before he walked over to Hermione and put each hand on a different side of her, "You have been ignoring me for days."

"I know," she answered, "I was there."

"You have been nothing," he continued, "but a complete _pain_ in my arse while I've been nothing but nice and supporting."

Hermione scanned the man up and down, taking in his dark blue jeans, his black t-shirt, his black socks and his leather belt wrapped around his waist, "I am absolutely done with _you_ shutting me out. You come in here, talking to yourself about _apologizing or God knows what,_ you stumble into me, because you're heavily focussed on your hands instead of your surroundings and when I want to talk with you about it you tell me to _fuck off_?" Sirius' tone was getting more and more frustrated the longer he talked.

"I _know_ you're going through something here, Hermione," Sirius continued, almost getting at the volume of screaming, "I know you are, but why can't you bloody trust me?"

"I trust you..."

"Then why do you keep _shutting_ me out?" he screamed.

"Because I don't know how to begin!" Hermione cried out, "I don't know where to begin, goddamnit!"

Hermione pushed the man away from her and stormed the kitche out and stormed the staircase up.

"Hermione!" he called after her while her rolled his eyes, "You are _not_ walking away from me! Hermione, wait!"

"No, Sirius, I won't wait," she told him while walking up the stairs, "I'm absolutely _terrible_ , I get it. Why won't you stop wasting your time on _such_ a _horrible_ person then?"

"Hermione," Sirius said, "spending time on you could _never_ be a waste of time."

She stopped walking and looked down at the man standing at the bottom of the stairs with his hands in his pockets and his puppy eyes on, "Now come downstairs and finish your tea."

Sirius kept staring at her until she walked down a step, but stopped when she saw him smile, "Well come on!" he laughed, "I'm the lovely Snuffles, Snuffles doesn't bite."

"I thought you said you'd show the less nice side of you," Hermione scoffed before she folded her arms, "I thought I'd see the grim."

"The grim is long gone," Sirius said, "now come on, kitten... Your tea is getting cold."

Sirius extended his hand, which Hermione took gradually. His strong hand led her towards the kitchen. Hermione sat down at the counter again and took the warm mug in her hands, "You're dressed differently," she mumbled before Sirius leaned against the counter on the other side of it.

"I know," he answered, "You like it?"

"Sure," she answered with a gentle smile, trying to ease off the enrangement they had both felt, "it makes you more... youthful."

"Why, thank you," Sirius laughed before he rubbed his chin, "It was actually just laundry day, but maybe it's time for bit more, as you call it, youthful wardrobe."

Hermione laughed and took a bite of her cereal. Bill and Fleur always had the expensive, nice, muggle stuff her parents used to buy. It was the kind that wouldn't destroy her teeth by the overdose of suger. She loved the cereal, it made her remember home.

"So," Sirius said while clearing his throat, "you want to tell me about that ' _I'm sorry_ ' mumbling going on before?"

Hermione smooched her lips and took a deep breath, "I found a small piece of paper in my bag the other night with only ' _I'm sorry'_ written on it," she took another sip of her tea before continuing, "I don't know who it's from, but I'm guessing it's from Scabior."

"What makes you think that?" Sirius grunted.

"He made sure I got the bag," she told him, "so he could've slipped it in. He also could've gotten it in before he shrunk the bag for me... Maybe he wanted to apologize for turning me in."

"Seeing the circumstances, I'm afraid to say it could also not be Scabior's. Show me the piece of paper," Sirius told her, "I'd like to see it."

Hermione reached down the pocked of her pyama bottoms and gave the piece of paper to Sirius, "Well... I don't think that's..."

"Oh, come on, don't leave a dramatic silence," Hermione grunted with a roll of her eyes, "Tell me what you're thinking."

"I think that's Peter's," Sirius mumbled, "Wormtail's.."

"No way," Hermione scoffed, "You think he's apologizing for betraying us?"

"I think _so,_ " Sirius laughed, "I think he's apologizing! You know what? I'll ask Remus to come over here for a second. He'll recognize Peter's handwriting in a jiffy."

"Yeah su..-"

"REMUS!"

"YEAH, WHAT IS IT?"

"COME DOWN HERE!"

" _WHY_?"

"BECAUSE... JUST DO IT!"

The werewolf came walking down the stairs and folded his arms with his hands covered in cardigan, "What was so important that I had to leave my book in the middle of a very _intruiging_ chapter?"

"Hermione has a note saying ' _I'm sorry'_ ," Sirius told him with twinkling eyes.

"How wonderful for her," Remus sighed, "why would that require my presence?"

"I think it's Peter's," Sirius told him while he handed the paper to Remus, "At least, I think I recognize his handwriting."

"You might be right," the werewolf said with a grunt while his finger ran over the ink words, "I think it's Peter's too."

Hermione looked at the two man discussing the piece of paper and sighed. The apology came from Peter, not Scabior. Apparently he really didn't care at all for what he had done. She took a deep, long breath which made the men realise maybe they needed to stop talking. They exchanged glances and walked over to the girl, "That it's Peter's doesn't mean it couldn't have been from Scabior," Remus says, "I'm sure he's feeling some... sort of _regret_."

"I appreciate it, Remus," Hermione said, "but don't patronize me. It's Peter's, which is more important than it being Scabior's. So really, don't hold back. I'll just go upstairs."

"Hermione," Sirius started, "don't go upstairs again. Go get some fresh air, okay? It'll do you good."

Hermione looked at the black haired man and blinked, "Fine," she said, "I'll sit outside for a bit."

Before Hermione reached the door she looked around at the two men discussing again and said, "I'm glad for you, by the way. That it's Peter's, I mean," she smiled and closed the door behind her, leaving the two men to their theories.

* * *

"Bloody fuckin' hell..."

"Nawh fuck that's crap too..."

"Shit..."

"Why the bloody fuck can't I fuckin' write like a normal fuckin' person?"

He picked up his desk and threw it on the ground, breaking the thing in two. The pieces parchment on which he was writing were all over the floor. He dropped his quill and sat down at the bed before he picked up a piece of parchment laying on the ground before his feet.

 _Dear Hermione X_

 _Love X_

 _Princes- X_

 _Hermione,_

 _I have read your letter and am now writing you back. X_

 _Hermione,_

 _I have received your letter and have thought about it many X_

 _Please just forgive me...X_

Scabior crumbled the parchment up into a ball and threw it agains the canvas before letting his head slip into his hands. How could he have screwed the first thing in his life that made him somehow happy up so quickly? He picked up Hermione's letter laying on the nightstand and took a deep breath before reading it again, and again, and again.

He then picked up a new piece of parchment and his quill and started writing.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _Thank you for your letter and well... X_

Scabior grunted and ripped up the piece of parchment before starting again.

 _I'm in love with you too and I'm sorry that I've ruined it and that I've been such a fuck up and that I've hurt you and X_

"Shit," he sighed before a tear fell onto the piece of parchment, "Shit."

 _Hermione,_

 _I'm glad you escaped, your friend shouldn't've died._

 _Don't wait for me._ _I won't wait for you,_

 _Scabior_

Scabior stood up, folded the piece of parchment and took a few deep breaths, withholding his tears before walking outside his tent towards the owl-shed. He gave a bird his letter, took another long breath and walked towards a tent that had gotten quite familiar to him. His breath was still reeking of alcohol when he reached the tent of Natasha Racotty.

He walked inside, sat down on her bed and said, "Let's _fuck._ "

Racotty turned around in the chair she was sitting on and frowned at the brown haired man sitting on her bed with his elbows resting on his knees and a wicked smile on his face. " _Why_?"

"I'm feeling like having a good fuck, Racotty," he anwered, "I know you're up for it. Don't think I don't see the way you're always ogling me."

"I'm not.. ogling you?" Racotty scoffed, "but fine. You wanna fuck? Let's fuck."

She walked over to the man, sat down on his lap and kissed him pressed her full lips against Scabior's. Her hands were tangled in his brown-red hair and were exploring the treasure she had felt many times before before. She moaned as Scabior's hand slipped down her jeans, found her bottom and squeezed. Scabior traced his lips down her neck, gently biting her once in a while. Making her wince every time his hot breath danced against the tender flesh.

 _It's not her. It's not her! Stop imagining it's her._

His fingers dug into her bum and back, leaving marks all over her body. He took out his hand and stood up with Racotty's legs wrapped around his waist. He lay her down on the bed and kissed her again. His tongue intertwinging with hers. His hand found the pink scarf still wrapped around his neck, which he took off and threw on the ground. His hands cupped Racotty's face as his eyelashes gently touched her cheek.

He felt a stiffness against his trousers, aching to be released while he took off his own clothing and she took off her's. She smelled amazing. Like pine cones, smoke and alcohol.

* * *

"So do you want to tell me what the hell that was about?" she asked while she stood up from the bed to get a towel for the sweat produced by their intimacy.

"I was just longing for you and you're magnificent lil' cunt, Natasha," Scabior said while he leaned back in the bed, "a man can't go on long without your touch."

Racotty rolled her eyes and put on her underwear, before fumbling with her shirt to get it right again, "There was more to it," she grunted, "your sex is normally... rough and feelingless. Aiming purely for satisfaction, but tonight I felt you longing and a touch of... sadness, maybe."

"It was once again," Scabior said before standing up to grab his trousers, "without any feeling. Don't flatter yourself."

"I'm not saying the feelings were for me," she scoffed while putting on her boots, "I'm saying there were some there. I didn't know you had them."

"Right..." he sighed, "Well I didn't come here for a shrink, so _'Adios'_ and thanks for the sex."

Racotty grabbed the man by the collar of his coat, "Scabior..." but soon regretted the action as Scabior turned around, looking furious. The palm of his hand stroke the woman's cheek hard, the force beating her onto the ground.

"Don't.. you.. _dare_ ," he told her calmly.

Scabior walked out of the tent, leaving behind the young woman in shock.

He licked his lips, still feeling satisfied from the good round of sex while walking towards the other end of the camp, where he found his crew drinking and playing cards. He sat down next to Fenrir Greyback and took a swig of a man's firewhiskey. The crew looked up, but kept playing and counted Scabior in. After a few rounds of cards Scabior stood up and said:

"I think we've played abou' enough cards, for t'night."

The men frowned and groaned, but stopped when Scabior started talking again, "We should go out into the woods again tomorrow mornin'," he continued, "We really have to catch somethin' good again... especially someone like Harry-Scarface-Potter and his lil' girlfriend. Who's up for tha'?"

The glasses were raises with approving exclaimations. They drunk their drink and continued their game while Scabior stood up and walked away from the table. He dropped the glass he snatched onto the mud that once was beautiful grass. "That's wha' I'm talking about!" he screamed at his crew, leaving them cheering again.

Harry Potter.. that's who would get him his reputation back. He also had to get Hermione back in his arms. Even if it was just for one night or one minute. Just a glance would be enough to live on for a while.

Merlin, was he selfish.


	22. Chapter 21

**Once again the chapter came out a little later than usual. I just want to give another thanks to my beta-reader lollipop25 for taking some time out of her busy schedule to read and correct my work.**

 **Don't forget to review what you've just read, I highly appreciate any form of criticism or compliment. All of it really helps me out into figuring out what should be fixed in my story, but also on what is loved by the readers.**

 **Already a big thanks for reading and enjoy! Cheers.**

 **Chapter 21**

"Sirius?! Get in here! _Now!_ You fucking wanker... twat!" she heard Remus scream from the other end of the house.

"I was getting _towels_!"

"GET! IN! HERE!"

The screaming, chaos and pains caused by Tonks' labour had been going on for several hours. Her water had broke that morning and the house had been in turmoil ever since. Luna had been going in and out of the room all day, getting everything Tonks asked for and Remus had been holding her hand and had been bossing around Sirius. Hermione hadn't left her room in quite some time by then. She only went downstairs for food and to check up on the potion, but she didn't feel the need to be around other people.

Scabior was getting in her head again.

She grabbed her mug that was once filled with tea and sighed. Empty... She stood up from her bed, flinched at the touch of her bare feet on the cold floor and opened the door, introducing herself into the world of labour.

"'ermione!" she heard Fleur yell ethousiastically, "Zhe 'ead is out!"

"That's... congratulations!" she answered awkwardly before starting her way down the stairs. She walked into the living room and looked around. She saw her two best friends sitting outside with their potion, stirring it and talking to each other. She'd spoken to Harry the day before, but Ron only came to her room every few days. She didn't know why, though. Maybe he had a hard time with her having been with another man, even though she and Ron had never even been in a relationship.

She walked towards the kitchen and grabbed Fleur's tea herbs. Most of the time she just took a bag of English tea, but she was feeling like something a little more special. While she was measuring out her herbs, she felt someone stare at her from behind her. Hermione turned around and saw a man with messy black curls, halve up in a bun and halve hanging loose sitting at the kitchen island. His whole appearance showed his exhaustion. His dark blue shirt was only slightly tucked into his trousers, a few buttons of his shirt weren't closed, which was unusual for the vain wizard. The opened buttons revealed some of the ink carved onto the skin of his chest. His blue eyes were framed by blue circles, and his facial hair was untamed, but his smile.. his smile was bright as ever.

Hermione was still hoding the jar filled with mint leaves, but was hypnotized by the penetrating look Sirius gave her. The man, sitting on a chair by the kitchen island stood up and led his body towards where Hermione was standing. He grinned while he put one hand on her hip, only covered by a tight, black tank top.

"Your body is shaking, kitten," he told her while his free hand guided a loose curl, fallen from her ponytail, behind her ear, "no need to be afraid when I'm around."

Sirius suddenly took a step backwards and turned himself from the aroused girl. He turned his gaze towards a boy with a pained look on his face, standing only a few yards away from them. Hermione saw Harry as well and gasped, "He was just reaching for... a glass."

"That's right," Sirius said after he had cleared his own throat, "all that... things upstairs are driving me into a craving of... orange juice."

Harry took a long, deep breath and walked towards the kitchen. He opened a cabinet, took out some biscuits and leaned against the counter, "I don't see any orange juice."

"That is," Sirius started, "because I haven't grabbed it yet."

"Then get your orange juice," Harry said, extremely calmly, "and get back upstairs. To be with your friend, where you're needed."

Sirius closed his eyes, licked his lips and walked towards Hermione who was preparing her tea, "Could you... move aside? I need a glass," the older man said to Hermione, who was still in shock.

"Ohh... yes, of course," she said, startled while she moved aside.

Sirius took a glass, poured in some orange juice, raised his eyebrows at Harry and walked out the room. Harry shook his head and focussed his eye on Hermione, "Merlin's beard Hermione! That's my _godfather_ we're talking about."

"He was only grabbing a glass, Harry," Hermione said, playing ignorant, "I think you're misinterpreting the situation. "

Harry put his lips together and gave Hermione a nod before walking away. She knew he didn't believe her, but oh, well... What better to make of the situation? Hermione turned towards her tea and took a sip. _What in God's name am I_ doing _?_

* * *

It had been days of wandering through the woods, trying to find Harry Potter. The group of snatchers hadn't even gotten the slightest of a clue on where to go next. They had roamed through the woods where they found them before, but without luck. Only a few refugees and a few mudbloods worth nothing but a week long going to the bar.

Eventually, after they had been walking through the woods for four hours, they reached a little village. Scabior looked around, took out his map and sighed. They were terribly off course. "Men," Scabior said, "let's get back ta camp. You go ahead, I have a meeting nearby."

The men stared at Scabior and his lame excuse and apparated without hesitation. Their boss telling them to go back to camp early was something they would never argue with. The list of refugees was getting shorter and their spirit was getting beaten down as they didn't find any sign of 'The Boy Who Lived'. Scabior walked towards the side of the road and took a good look on his map. So he _had_ seen it correctly! A house in the village once belonged to a family with a mudblood mother. They had gone of to Australia, where mudbloods were accepted.

The house was still a part of the Floo system... could he find a way to communicate with Hermione?

He looked up the address on his list and started walking. Soon he found the small, white, but pretty house belonging to the once happy family and kicked the door open. He walked inside, into the living room and looked around. It looked so warm, even though the air was cold. It looked loving, but empty by the lack of people. He saw photoframes standing on a cupboard, a scarf with the colours of Hufflepuff and an old Daily Prophet with quidditch news from last year. Scabior shook his head. It wasn't his fault they weren't at home anymore. He was just a messenger, a snatcher... a Death Eater without love for Voldemort.

He walked further into the room and sat down next to the fireplace, he put in some wood and lit the fire with a mumble. He looked around and saw Floo powder, he wouldn't be travelling, but maybe if she was in a room with a lit fire in a house in the Floo system, he'd be able to reach her.

Scabior threw some of the powder in and leaned into the fire while saying "Hermione Granger" loud and clearly. He saw houses flash in front of his house, but no house containing the girl that wrote him the letter. Not the girl he wrote a letter back to. Not the girl that made him turn mental.

He gasped when he got back into the real world and sighed... she wasn't there. She wasn't coming back to him. She was in love with him. She wasn't there.

" _INCENDIO_ ," he screamed, shooting red flames from his wand, lighting the house on fire.

He collapsed on his knees and watched the flames dance around him. The warmth started to irritate his skin as the smoke filled his lungs. He stormed outside and coughed while falling onto the lane in front of the house. He turned around and saw the entire building go up in flames. He looked down at his blackened hands and licked his lips. He did have a meeting, he hadn't lied about that. He had to return to the Malfoy Manor for a meeting with all of his favourite Death Eaters.

Scabior was still on his hands and knees on the lane, coughing for another minute or two before he stood up and walked towards the end of the property, towards the pavement. He still felt the affect of the smoke in his lungs, but his vision wasn't clouded any longer. He panted agains a lamppost, his left arm holding onto the iron tube while he watched the flames take away the memories of those people. _Good riddence_ , he thought, _no more memories._

When Scabior heard the sounds of sirens near the burning building, he disapparated. His body felt as if it was being torn apart before he opened his eyes and saw the gates guarding the huge villa. His fist banged agains the iron bars until Wormtail arrived and stood in front of the gate, "I'm expected," Scabior grunted, "by the Dark Lord."

Scabior leaned against the gate until Wormtail finally found his right key and opened it, "I'm sorry to say you're running a bit late, Mr Scabior," the servant said, " _the_ meeting, I presume?"

"Yes, _the_ meeting," he answered, "and it's called being fashionably late."

The two supporters of You-know-who walked into the Manor. Wormtail tried to get Scabior's coat, but he refused and waited for the servant to open the door into the dining hall for him. Scabior walked in with an arrogant smile and bowed in front of the Dark Lord, "My Lord," he said while going through his knees, "my apologies on being late. I was... going on a stroll on a search for our most wanted man and I forgot the time. Please, forgive me."

"Christopher," Voldemort said, in an almost whispering voice, "sit down, sit down. We have a matter to discuss."

Scabior walked to his appointed seat and sat down next to the man he knew was Severus Snape. They had met many times before, but he had never sat next to him. Snape was one of the most trusted Death Eaters inside Voldemort's circle, it was strange that a filthy snatcher like him sat next to the Headmaster.

"I heard... recently," the Dark Lord started while leaning forward, "that you had been in possesion of Hermione Granger, the mudblood witch travelling with Harry Potter."

"That's," Scabior started, trying to figure his way out of the situation, "correct, My Lord."

"You kept her for quite some time, yes?" he asked Scabior while staring him down.

"Yes, My Lord," Scabior admitted, "I have had held her under my captivity for about ten days before starting my trip to 'ere."

"Why," Voldemort started, accenting the word, "did you keep her from us, for that long, Christopher?"

Scabior winced at hearing his name for the second time, but kept staring at the oak table in front of him. Avoiding eye-contact with any of the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself. "I had taken an interest in the girl," Scabior said, finally getting the courage to look at the dark wizard, "I have tried to get information from her, don't get me wrong. I just couldn't help but lay my hands on 'er."

"For ten days?" Voldemort snickered, before gesturing to Wormtail to fill his glass with the red wine he was used to, "That's a bit over the top, don't you think?"

The entire room laughed and Scabior cracked a fake smile as well before he took some of the wine himself. He scratched his head and leaned back in his chair, relaxing a bit after the joke, "One could say," Scabior said, "that I might be a tad perverse."

"A tad?" Bellatrix Lestrange screeched, "She came in here covered in bruises and bite marks! That's what he calls a tad? Tell him, Draco!"

"It's true," the terrified blond said, before he cleared his throat, "I barely recognised her."

"But why did she... escape?" Voldemort asked, now pointing his focus towards four of the Death Eaters sitting on the other side of the table, "You must've understood her importance and how much I'd like to see the infamous girl myself."

Bellatrix opened her mouth, but soon closed it when she figured she couldn't better the situation. She took a sip from her wine and returned to the waiting Lord with, "I'm sorry, My Lord."

"Oh... I know you're sorry, dear Bellatrix," Voldemort told her, "it's just... that I can't seem to understand how you could let such a humiliation like this happen."

"It was the Order," Draco said, "they also got Luna Lovegood, Ollivander and the goblin. I think it was just a big plan and the mudblood girl being part of it was just a coincidence."

"I do hope so," Voldemort said, "thank you, Draco. For clearing the matter up. Do not let them slip through your fingers again. You too, Christopher."

"Yes, My Lord," Scabior said while taking a deep breath.

The entire table was left in silence until Voldemort raised his arms and said, "We aren't at a graveyard! This is a meeting to share information with one another. Get the information flowing. For example, Severus, how is the situation at our beloved Hogwarts?"

"It's going fine, My Lord," the headmaster answered, "there isn't much to report, I'm afraid."

"Very well," Voldemort said while petting his snake, Nagini, "Christopher, the situation in the camp of snatchers?"

"Same as usual," Scabior answered, "I won't bore ya with the everyday details, but the only thing worth mentioning is a lack of motivation. Potter is still what most snatchers are looking for, which is a good thing in my opinion, but he ain't being snatched, nor seen."

"The main focus on Harry is a very good thing," Voldemort replied, "but don't lose focus on the mudbloods and traitors, either. It is important they are kept on being wiped out. Speaking of Harry Potter, does anyone have an update on the boy and his whereabouts?"

Everyone on the table exchanged glanced and shook their heads. Voldemort leaned back in his chair and sighed, "Does anyone have anything else of importance to report to me?"

No one moved except for a casual shake of the head and no one spoke. "Draco? No. Crabbe?" Voldemort asked, "No. Alright, go on home then. Go on!"

The chairs started to shift and the Death Eaters started to leave. When Scabior made an attempt at leaving, he was stopped by the cold voice of Voldemort saying, "Not you."

Scabior turned around and walked back to where Voldemort was standing. He licked his lips and locked his hands, "What is it I can do for ya, my Lord?"

"You've caught feelings for the girl," Voldemort stated with a whisper, "don't make me regret giving you the Dark Mark, Christopher. I trust you to stay on my side."

"O' course, My Lord," Scabior told him, "there is no doubt in my mind about where I belong."

"Which is?"

"On your side," the snatcher said, "I am loyal to you, My Lord, not some mudblood girl. We just... slept around and I caught a feeling or two. Nothin' more."

"I should hope so..." the Dark Lord sighed out, "I wouldn't want to end up _killing_ such an ambitious, high ranked young man such as yourself. Would be a waste, wouldn't it?"

"I fully agree."

"Good," Voldemort replied, "This wine Wormtail found is remarkably beautiful. Care to join me for a glass while Wormtail lights a fire?"


	23. Chapter 22

**WARNING! This chapter contains either sexual content or violence. Cursing will not be marked.**

 *** * * MARKS the beginning and end of: sexual content**

 **# # #** **MARKS the beginning and end of: violence**

 **Hello, hello!**

 **Another chapter ready for you, my apologies if I kept you waiting too long, I'm on vacation so that slows down the process a little bit. But as you noticed, I managed to get a chapter written and ready to roll.**

 **I really hope you like this chapter, especially this one. It's a really emotional and heavy one, with losts of thought put into it. If you read closely you might be able to understand what I mean when I say there's a lot of stuff written _on purpose_.**

 **Oooh and if you have questions about the story or suggestions for it, feel free to PM me!**

 **Anyway, enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think. Not only about the chapter, but also the story, I'm really curious. Thank you and enjoy your day!**

 **Chapter 22**

He fell onto his knees and hands, feeling the damp ground - covered in leaves - beneath him. By clasping his hands he crushed the dirt against the surface of his hands. He winced, as another wave of pain flowed through his body. What was he _doing_?

He looked up from the ground, up in the air, but only saw a ceiling of leaves. He closed his eyes and tried not to see, but failed when an image flashed through his mind.

 **# # #** _A door opened and led him towards a room in which his parents would sleep_ _. The room was off limits, normally, but today the little boy who opened the door didn't care. Because his mother had vanished and hadn't come back. He knew she was inside the room. He just didn't see her, nor talk to her, nor hear her except for the crying he heard at night and the sniffs the wind carried outside through the crack of the window. The boy swallowed. He walked inside and saw his mother, lying in bed with her nightgown on. Her dark hair was a mess. He figured she hadn't washed it in days, nor combed it. He took a step closer and noticed the dark circles beneath the woman's eyes and the hollow look she had. She was staring at the wall, into nothingness._

 _He looked around her. Dozens of napkins were scattered across the floor and the bed. A full glass of water was on her bedside and full plates of food - with sometimes a few bits taken out - stood on the small table on the other side of the room. That's when Christopher noticed the woman's slimming body and face. No healthy layer of fat covered her cheekbones anymore. Nothing was giving her body body. He frowned when he felt fear overtake his body. He closed his eyes, took deep long breaths and walked towards the bed on which he sat down. The woman lay still. She didn't move, she didn't look up. All she did was stare and breathe and let her heart beat without doing a thing for it._

 _Christopher resisted the impulse to cry or scream, but instead moved his hand towards her arm. He lay his warm hand against the cold surface of his mother's under arm and for a second he thought it was going all right, until the woman started to scream loudly in a high pinched tone. Christopher took back his hand, stood up from the bed and watched the horrific scene of his non blinking mother cry out in enormously hard tones. He cried, fell onto the ground and kept crying. His father came up, threw the boy out the room and shut the door behind him. A minute later the screaming had stopped, but the boy's tears hadn't. He crawled towards his room, onto his bed, beneath the blankets to try and fight the strange cold that had taken control over his body. He wasn't really cold, but that scream penetrated his mind in a way that made him feel like he could never feel warm again._

Scabior opened his eyes again and felt a strange feeling on his cheek. He reached towards his face with his dirty hands and saw the wetness his tears had created. A shiver went down his spine. He knew that coldness. He crawled up and clang onto a tree. A dagger was always at the back of his belt in case his wand wouldn't be available in a fight. He moved his arm towards his back and took out the dagger. His finger moved against the sharp surface until it accidentally cut slightly into his flesh, causing a drip of blood balancing from the wound.

He shrugged his sleeve up and pressed the cold knife against the tender flesh of his fore arm. A tear fell onto his flesh, onto the dark mark and- **# # #**

 _His father had gone drinking. His sister was with her friends. He was twelve when he walked into his silent home and shut the door. His mother should be home, maybe she had a good day and they could play a board game. Or maybe she could show him a spell that allowed her to make drawings in thin air. He was positive, that night could be a good night for her and him. Maybe he could finally have his mother back._

 _Christopher hung his coat on the coatrack and took off his shoes, but when he approached the door leading towards the living room his confident smile turned grim. His white socks were covered in red blood. He soon opened the door and ran into the living room. He found his mother, lying on the floor in a puddle of blood and a shard of glass next to her hand. The boy gasped, started crying and started muttering to himself: "What do I do? What do I do? Fucking God is no use."_

 _He walked towards the paralysed body of his mother and lay two fingers against her neck. No pulse. She was dead. He fell down, into the pudle of his mother's blood and continued on crying. Why? Why did she do it? Why couldn't she keep on going, for him? He realised he was alone then. No one loved him any longer. The last one had left._

 _He lifted her up and saw the huge gaps in her wrists. He gasped. The picture was printed in his mind. "Mummy?" he cried, "Mummy, come back." He crawled agains the lifeless body of his mother. It had already gone cold, the boy noticed. "Mummy, please," he whispered, "Mummy, don't leave me."_

He wanted to lay in his own puddle of blood.

 _"You were the reason! Not_ me _," he screamed, "You killed her! You killed her! You killed her, with your bullying! You killed her by drinking! You murdered my mother! You took her away!"_

" _Shut up, ya stupid snake!" his father screamed back, "I have never disappointed your mother. I have been faithful. I have cared for 'er and I have loved her and still do. You however... oh you. I always wanted a son. A son who could hunt, could fight and was smart enough to get far. What did I get? I got you. A filthy, lying piece of shit worth nothing more than a little piggy-"_

 _"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" the young man started crying and drew his wand, "How could you? How could you do this to your own blood? You beat me! You humiliate me! You kick me and insult me and belittle me and all I can do is keep quiet! Shut up! You fucking shut up you-"_

 **# # #** _The older man picked up the nearest glass, partly filled with water and threw it at the boy. The glass shattered when it hit the ground. The shatters carved into his skin._

 _"Why?" Christopher cried out, his voice crackling, "STOP HURTING ME! STOP! I can't... I can't take it anymore." The boy grabbed onto his hair and let his tears fall onto the wooden floor as panic kept rushing over him. His hands were shaking. His head was numb. All he wanted to do was leave. Just leave and start over._

 _"I told you, you were weak," the man said with a nasty grin before he took a bottle of wine standing by the wall, "the weakest in the nest. Be happy you ain't a bird, boy. You'd be killed on your first day."_

 _"AVADA KEDAVRA" a green beam of light escaped from his wand and struck the man with fear in his eyes. The man fell onto the ground, his eyes still opened, staring at the ceiling, but not seeing a thing. Scabior put his wand in his pocket, moved his tears from his cheeks to his hands and walked towards the dead man. He kicked the body._

 _"I told you to shut up."_

Scabior couldn't stop crying while the pictures kept flashing through his head. He had been searching through the woods for days to find Hermione, without luck-

 _"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"_

He was slowly turning mad. He had to meet with the deatheaters and Voldemort from time to time, telling them how his hunt went. He never had any news, to The Dark Lord's disappointment.

 _*crack* A bitter sensation rushed throught the surface of his cheek. He tried to get up, but another blow was already on it's way._

He hadn't been back to his tent in two days, hadn't eaten since three and hadn't seen her in... Hell he didn't even know anymore. He took a deep breath and pressed the dagger a bit deeper into his wrist. Should he do it? Should he escape like his mother did? **# # #**

 _"What did you do?" a kind voice said to him as he sat down at next to him. The man was chained, maddened, but not maddened by prison. He was maddened by grief._

 _"I killed someone," the young man admitted, "Someone who I warned."_

 _The man kept quiet for quite some time and took a long breath,"Do you regret it?" the man asked._

 _The younger Scabior looked at his side, where the older man called Sirius Black sat and shrugged. He carved into the sand with his finger and started humming a song he didn't know the name of anymore, "I don't think I do," Scabior sighed, "the man I killed was my father. Let's just say: he didn't like me much."_

 _Sirius Black, one of the most feared prisoners nodded and leaned back, "How old are you, kid?"_

 _"I'm 19, almost twenty."_

 _"Will you get out?" Black asked with a frown._

 _"My sentence is 30 years," Scabior answered, "I've done about four and a half. I'll be out when I'm fourty-five."_

 _"Heavy sentence," Black stated, "Especially for a kid."_

 _"They must've made an example outa me," he mumbled, "most kids under seventeen get a discount of twenty years."_

 _The man nodded, "You got really fucked."_

 _Scabior laughed and threw a little rock a little further away. The two men stayed in silence for a while until Scabior said, "I'm Christopher, by the way. Christopher Scabior, everyone just calls me by my last name."_

 _"You probably know who I am," Black said, "everyone thinks I'll rip their throats out. These people are mental."_

 **# # #** He sliced a bit deeper again and closed his eyes. No one had loved him for many years. Since he was twelve no one had, until one girl. Hermione Granger and he had let her go. He dropped the dagger. **# # #** He lost the girl for his reputation. He wouldn't be weak. He wouldn't be known as the man who saw suicide as his only solution. His solution would be either victory or the girl, but no way would Christopher Scabior give up.

He wasn't weak, like his father made out. He wasn't like his mother, who decided he should quit. He would go on. If he'd fight he'd either end up dead, with the girl or live without the girl. Of course his mother wasn't weak, he knew that. She was the strongest person he had ever known, but even the strongest ones can break.

Scabior picked up the dagger and stared at it. The dagger was still covered in his blood. He reached into his pocket and took out a flask of fire whiskey and poured some over the wound before he wrapped it up with his pink scarf. He couldn't let such a wound get infected, not when the Dark Lord expected the war would come soon.

" _What happened? What did you do? Is she dead? Did you kill her? Goddamnit, boy! Get away from 'er, filth! Get away!"_

 _No time for silly things like daggers_ , he thought as he cleaned the dagger on his vest and put it back where it belonged. He took out his flask again and took a swig. The warmth fought the cold inside him and soon made him feel like he was all right again. He sat down against the tree and closed his eyes for a few minutes. He took out his sketchbook and pencil and started sketching the lines of Hermione's face. Those defined curves in her faces...

He sketched her eyes, but didn't get the flicker right, so he ripped the piece of paper out. He sketched her lips, but didn't make them soft enough, so he threw the sketch away. He tried to draw her beautiful, beautiful neck, but didn't make the warmth to beam, so he crossed it out.

He sighed and smooched his lips before he took another swig from his drink. If only he had a picture to look at. A drawing perhaps.

Another hour or so passed by in which Scabior tried to sew up his wound, but failed and drank some water instead of fire whiskey for a change until he heard a twig snap and voices speak. He stood up, wound the scarf around his arm again and looked around. Did he see a glimpse of brown curls?

 **My apologies if you found the announcements of violence frustrating, but I feel like I should, because some of these subject can ben triggering. I hope you understand. Have a nice day!**


	24. Chapter 23

**Hello, everyone.**

 **It has been about half a year since I last published a chapter and I'm sorry for the long wait! I can't promise to finish the story any time soon, but I'll try my best. The thing is... I'm kind of writing a book right now and beside that my education and personal life has taken it's toll. I know some writers take more than a year per chapter, but I still wanted to give a proper apology to those who were waiting on this chapter.**

 **Then also, I wanna give a special thanks to everyone who has commented on my story! :**

 **Smithback, Tamcor, corie.f , Silver Orbed Lioness, Kilataia, Sophie-B96, pianomouse, OptimusPrimegirl213, GillianLSteele, FannedePanne, Hanable-13, alliesmiley2, Hitora and imnotevil13, Liminalish, i love new storys, Ydream08, JuSTAnOtHeRfReAK21**

 **Liminalish, special shoutout to you! Your comment pushed me over the edge into writing another chapter. I hope you enjoy it!**

 **Much love**

 **Chapter 23**

"Scabior."

"Granger."

After the sound of her voice there was only the rustling of the wind. Scabior noticed Hermione's lip tremble as she took a step backwards and snapped a small twig. He saw the tears in her eyes and he wanted to walk towards her, to take her hand, to take her body and to show her he wasn't to be afraid of. Yet all she seemed to feel was fear.

"Why are you here?" she asked him, almost in a whisper. "Why won't you leave me _alone?_ Why did you use me? Why did you want me? Why are you still in my brain like some parasite that is so bloody persistant that I'm starting to think you hexed me? Did you hex me?"

"No," answered Scabior. He clenched his jaw and wanted to give her back the scarf, when he realised it was tied around his arm. Scabior took a deep, trembling breath and attempted to take a step forward, to which Hermione took a step back. "I didn't."

"I don't believe a word you say," Hermione said. "How could I have ever loved you?"

"You ask me all o' these questions, that I don't have the answers to."

"And neither do I! But here I am! Looking at the man who ruined me and made me. No, I'm not looking at a man, even, I'm looking at a monster who sometimes showed a little humanity and made me believe there was more. I send you a letter, Scabior... You know that I blame you and you know that I love you, yet I now refuse."

All that time, he had believed she had at least seen the layers beneath, yet there she was ignoring them. The layers were there. He knew they were there. "I'm-"

"Spare me the apologies," Hermione spat.

"I'm-"

"I told you to stop it!" Hermione said, getting more aggitated.

"Blimey! Hermione, is everything alright? It sounds like your talking to yourself again!" Ron screamed from the other end of the woods.

"I'm fine!" Hermione responded. "Leave me be!"

Scabior didn't blink. Not one moment would he dare to look away from the angel screaming in front of him. How could he? After having missed her for so long. He opened his mouth again, but closed it. He didn't want to be cut off again. Scabior reached to his back pocket and took out his dagger, which he threw onto the grass. He then took out his wand and threw it next to the dagger. "Let me finish, this time," Scabior suggested. "I'm in lo- I'm not who you think I am. I'm not Scabior, the big bad snatcher, with you. At least so I thought. With you I try to be a be'er man, while all o' the others bring out the worst in me. I'm not a monster."

"But you took _advantage_ of me."

"B'cause I loved you."

"You loved me? That was a nice way of showing it."

Scabior scoffed and lowered his head as he went through his options.

"I don't think you understand what love means, Chris," the girl whispered. "I don't think you know any other emotion beside lust and anger."

"Who the hell do you think you are, then? To decide what I feel?" said the snatcher. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Tha' you run around with Scarface doesn't make you a saint. You got your nose so high you might not hit your head, but you'll stumble."

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said. "I have all the right in the world to hold my nose up high."

"Then I guess we're done," Scabior pronounced. "This'll be the last goodbye, until on the ba'lefield."

"Have fun with your title."

There was about four yards between them, but after only a moment of hesitation not one yard seperating them was left.

Scabior grabbed the insufferable know-it-all by the waist and kissed her, before she could protest. Not the alcohol, the women nor the victory of a snatch could match with the fire she got burning inside of him. Scabior moved his hand up to tangle up in her hair and moaned against the soft, willing lips underneath his.

Finally her hands begun moving over his chest, his neck, his dark locks. She didn't hesitate to take in the sweet taste of liquor and smoke. Her lips crashed with his again, before she opened her mouth to let him in.

Her stomach jumped at the graze of his teeth over her bottom lip. Her head lightened up at his lips loving her neck. And "Oh!" was released at the bite on her shoulder, when realisation hit.

"No." she said, before she pushed him away. Opposite from her stood a lust crazed man. His thin lips swollen and red. His pupils dialated and maddened. "Not again."

"You want me," he said. "You need me. I can feel it with every lil' thing."

"I don't _need_ anyone and I never have."

Scabior's lips curled up in a smile as he watched his pray with amusement. "Yes, you do," he said. "You're aching for me. Are you drippin' yet? You know I luv' it when you're drippin' for me."

"Good _bye_ ," Hermione said. She turned around, but was soon stopped by Scabior who wrapped his strong arms around her waist.

Scabior trailed his nose over her clean neck and licked along the line of her ear as he pressed his erection against her backside. "Come on luv'," he whispered in her ear. He slid his hand over her thigh and up as the other went underneath her shirt. "I know you want me."

Hermione tilted her head back against Scabior's shoulder, earning an approving smile. Scabior kissed the exposed surface of her neck, before he slid his hand into her trousers. "Good girl," he said as he slipped his fingers through her folds. "just relax."

A moan startled Scabior into desire and soon he got her trousers down to her ankles. "Go on then, luv'," said he. "Wanna unbuckle me?"

'Shit,' he thought when he saw Hermione snap out of her trance. Her head tilted to the ground where she would see the puddle of fabric laying on her feet.

"I... I can't," she mumbled as she attempted to pull her trousers up again, but Scabior put down a foot on top of the clothing.

"You're going nowhere," Scabior demanded. "So how about you take off your shirt, huh? I can see your arousal through your panties, princess. I can smell you, even. Now be a good girl and undress for me."

Hermione struggled trying to heave her jeans up, but every time Scabior stopped her. Tears started streaming down her face as she struggled and finally she won. "You haven't changed," she cried as she quickly buckled up. She turned towards Scabior and slapped him right in the face. "You're a filthy.."

"I'm a filthy what, Hermione?" Scabior said, eyeing her up and down. "A filthy liar? Rapist? Murderer? It's all true, ya know tha'. Yet still... you moan for me. Maybe your sense of honour has been adjusted, princess. Maybe we're not as different as you'd like to believe."

"I hate you!"

Scabior bit the inside of his cheek and took a step back, without taking his eyes off Hermione. "Ya hate me?"

"Yes, I _hate_ you."

"Hate me all you want!" Scabior said. He picked up his wand and spit at Hermione's feet. "Lie all you like. Nobody'll ever be able to fuck you like I do."

Hermione, trembling crossed her arms over her chest and glared him down, with fiery eyes. "I _hate_ you."

"And you tell me that I don't know what love is?" Scabior asked.

"Love isn't pushing someone's jeans down. Love isn't holding someone hostage, nor fucking someone mercilessly," Hermione cried. "Love is gentle, sweet. Love is to look at someone and want to drown in their eyes. Love is longing to touch, to know. Have you ever tried to know me?"

"I don't know _how_ , Hermione," Scabior said. "I don't know how I'd get to know you. I don't know how to be gentle. I wasn't raised in a loving way, nor have I ever had sex gently, lovingly. The closest I got to that was with you. Now, I'm laying my heart bare. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?"

Hermione looked away from Scabior and got out her wand. "I'm going to have to arrest you in the name of the Order of the Phoenix."


End file.
